


Bad To The Bone - Sequel To Habitat 1

by BruisedBloodyBroken



Series: HABITAT [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hunters & Hunting, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Other, Possessed Dean Winchester, Unrelated Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:27:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29137041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BruisedBloodyBroken/pseuds/BruisedBloodyBroken
Summary: !UNRELATED:WINCEST! Sam & Dean are on a hunt, that looks like a case of ghost possession. it was supposed to be a usual salt & burn ... THEN things change rapidly. Dean changes - & Sam has to deal with it, does he? maybe there was more about that hunt as both of them thought. hurt!sam mean!dean caring!dean guilty!dean bobby!to!the!rescue rated!MA!for!a!reason
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: HABITAT [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2145762
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Bad To The Bone - Sequel To Habitat 1

**Author's Note:**

> First published on FANFICTIONdotNET  
> WARNINGS: please read HABITAT first. - it's the main-story and a giveaway to understand this one. You can also read it as a stand-alone, but you won't get the meaning of it properly. unrelated wincest, mentions of all kind of evil stuff (torture, abuse, rape, etc.), i'll take both of them thru hell and back in this story – though nothing too graphic. rated MA for a good reason ~ for the sensitive ones among us ;)  
> DISCLAIMER: NOT MINE

Title: **Bad To The Bone - Sequel To Habitat I**  
Category: TV Shows » Supernatural  
Author: BruisedBloodyBroken  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: M  
Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort  
Published: 12-25-13, Updated: 01-06-14  
Chapters: 9, Words: 38,281

* * *

**Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

* * *

**~ i had an idea ~**

_and i finally managed to make something up about it … as usually it got longer as i wanted it to be … lets see how many of you guys are interested in it :)_

_it's part of the HABITAT-SERIES and settled about half a year after Lucifer got freed._

** WARNINGS: ** _ rated MA for a reason, unrelated wincest; please read  _ ** HABITAT ** _ first to understand Dean & Sams relationship and „their universe";  _ ** violence, abuse ** _ ~ well it's some hard stuff in this story & it'll hurt, it'll honestly hurt …BUT i'll promise it'll get all cosy and lovely and fluffy in the later chapters ;) _

**DISCLAIMER:** _not mine_

it'd be nice if you'd leave me some

**BACON BACON BACON BACON BACON BACON BACON**

_aka REVIEWS :)_

* * *

**~ Sequel to HABITAT I ~**

**Bad To The Bone**

**Chapter 1 ~ Changes**

It's been half a year and about seventeen hunts later, when Dean and Sam were in North Dakota for a salt and burn. A small town on the outskirts of Devils Lake where odd deaths carried on for years. But they had been too anomalous - until Bobby got a call from an old hunter-friend of his.

Dean and Sam had found out, that it had to be some kind of ghost-possession-thing. They also found the spirit, that probably caused all the deaths. Theis spirit possessed persons and killed the one who was closest to them, before they judged themselves. No one was able to tell when it had started, nor escalated, nor what reasons the vengeful spirit had to do _this_.

The hunters thought that it had to be a guy called _James Ledger_ , who had died about fifty years ago by the hands of his wife. His wife hang herself hours later in the shed.

No one in town remembered or witnessed anything of what had happened these days. Too much time had passed. Too much people had moved away and others were already too old already, other had been too young to notice.

Another problem was, that they didn't even know how long the ghost possessed these people and made them do horrible things to their loved ones. Sometimes there were years in between the murders, sometimes just days …

Because of a couple of interviews they were able to tell, that the victims – _the loved ones_ – had changed. Specially the latest one: Sarah. Sarah was shot by her little sister a couple of days ago, before Alex – the little one with about sixteen years - gutted herself in the basement of their parents house. Sarah had become silent – her friends told them – and her behaviour got just weird. She didn't get on her phone anymore, didn't joined them on their weekly meeting at the bar in town, nor did she seem to have any interests anymore except school and the house and her little sister. Once or twice she had mentioned that she was worried about Alex. But that had been at the very beginning … before she started to avoid contact with her friends and family. She locked herself up in her room, skipped classes at the college lately. That was when their parents noticed that something was going on with Sarah – never an idea that it could've been her little sister, possessed by a spirit.

Mostly it got worse before anyone recognized that something was going on, that something wasn't right with the victims – both of them. And obviously no one seemed to care a lot about it. The police declared it way too often as „family dramas". Until it happened to Sarah and Alex, nieces of one of Bobby's retired hunter-friends, who called the bearded hunter for help. But at this point it had been too late … the kids were dead, the mess was done. And the police AGAIN declared it at a „family drama", as a fight between siblings and as a tragic event in the story of the town.

* * *

The Impala parked on a byway near the cemetary in the pale light of the half-moon high above the grave that Sam and Dean were digging out. The grave of sweet _James Ledger_. Everything was silent until … Ledger himself – better said: the body he actually possessed – apeared in the shadows of a near tree. She was a beautiful young girl, long black hair, crystal-gray orbs and she had the sweetest smile in town. The young woman stood there, well hidden from everyone's eyes and watched the hunters as they did their work. An evil smile spread across her handsome face and her eyes flashed black, sparkling dangerously in the shadows of the trees as a ray of moonlight crossed her features.

„Gotcha, Winchester.", she hissed triumphing. Now it was her turn …

There she stood. A couple of yards away from the grave, one of the hunters rocksalt-loaded shotguns in her small and tender hands. The girl let a whistle carry away over her lips, like she was calling for her runaway-dog and drew the hunters attention in an instant. Both turned towards her and looked at the girl in shock.

„I get her, you burn the damn bones." Before Dean was able to react, the younger male was already out of the sinkhole, shouting at the possessed girl and tried to draw her attention. But she obviously was more into short guys – well … better said: into _Winchesters._

Sam broke into a run, as he recognized that she wasn't a bit interested in the sasquatch, trying to get between her and Dean and the grave to buy his partner some more time. They carried the hope, that they would be able to save the possessed girl nonetheless, not knowing that it was a Demon and not a Spirit. So Sam wanted to be careful with her, since he didn't attend to hurt the poor thing physically.

On the other hand: Right now he hadn't a lot of choices. So he tackled her from the side and took her to the ground. The small thing was way faster than Sam and was over him in an instant, legs spread widely and the shotgun pointing at Sams chest. The girl grinned at Sam as she pulled the trigger once … twice … three times.

The rocksalt digged into Sams flesh and sent dancing white and black dots across his vision as he tried to take a breath. All he earned was a brutal forced punch in the face and everything went dark around him in a split second.

* * *

Sam didn't know how long he was out. His vision was blurry and the rocksalt burned in the tiny wounds in his chest, when he first opened his eyes. It wasn't lethal, he knew it, but it would hurt like a bitch for at least a couple of days.

Bright flames drew his attention towards the opened grave, as he rolled couching to his side. It took him some moments to focus his vision and recognized two bodies about one yard away from the grave.

„Dean?", he murmured to himself with shaky voice. „Dean?!", once more, this time louder and more steady.

Still no movement.

He got on his feet, swaying and pain in his chest, but it didn't take him a lot of effort to push the dizziness aside. Sam took a deep breath and stumbled towards the bodies on the ground. … Then he saw blood on the bodies – glistering in the dancing flames. Too much blood.

His heart skipped, and started to race. _No no no_ it couldn't be. „Dean?", Sam sank on his knees beside the older hunter, who laid on his stomach. No breathing noticable he and if it was his blood or the girls … _or both_.

Sam laid his hand on the hunters back … he _was_ breathing … strong and even, as he would've been asleep. He rolled him carefully over on his back.

„Dean?", he asked again, starting to feel for a pulse on his partners neck. „There you are."; Sam scuffed released with a small smile. The hunters pulse was strong and stable.

Dean moaned low. „Ouch-", he breathed and grunted as he reached for Sams offered hand to sit up.

The older hunters gaze fell on the girl beside him and then on Sam, who was watching him curiously. „Not mine.", Dean whispered. „Not my blood." He said as he wanted to persuade himself.

Sam swallowed and turned towards the girl. She had no pulse … there was no breathing … and a deep gash on her utter thigh was glistening in the pale light of the dying fire.

Sam shook his head when he returned on Deans side. „Lets get out of here … before someone recognizes the fire and calls the cops.", The younger man helped Dean on his feet who rubbed the back of his head.

„You OK?", Sam asked, watching him troubled. „Thothing of this is yours?"

Dean tugged Sams hand away as he made an attempt to touch the hunters stomach, where the shirt was soaked in blood. „I'm OK.", he snapped and shot Sam a distant glance.

They made it back to the Impala … both of them limping, and Dean holding his side.

„What happened?", Sam asked as both of them sat in the Impala and Dean pulled his baby back on the road.

„Thought you were there ...", the taller male became as respond.

„Yeah … i mean … i didn't get the finale ...", Sam answered hesitantly.

„Well, while you took your beauty-nap i got flung around by that bitch. - But gladly i managed to throw the lighter before she was able to gut me.", Dean answered with something like … _anger_? … in his voice.

Sam nodded and watched the Winchester intensively on their way back to the motel. They spent their time in the car in strained silence. Neither of them lost a word, nor it seemed like one of them dared to take a deep breath.

Back at the motel-parking-lot, Dean wasted no time to wait for his partner. He jumped out of the car, grabbed his bag from the backseat and disappeared instantly in their motel-room, before Sam got his duffel-bag out of the trunk.

The older hunter slammed the door shut, tossed his duffel-bag on the the king-size-bed and took an infuriated inhale. Then he looked thru his bag, tossing fresh clothes and his first aid kit beside the bag and looked at the motel-room as it opened and Sam entered slowly.

Sam could tell that Dean was pissed. And he didn't know why … the hunt hadn't been a lot different from the others … OK, it didn't work that well … but when ever had it? They got fling around on a regular base, and this time … it wasn't different at all.

The younger hunter kept his gaze on Dean, who avoided eye-contact and just stood there in front of the bed, trying to get his raged breathing back under control.

Sam draw closer to the older male from behind - who had just slipped out of his jacket - and wanted to wrap his arms around the him. - Something always had worked when Dean was pissed, and something he knew it would work and calm the skillful hunter down. Or at least show him, that everything was okay. But Dean didn't seem to want _this_ – _not this time_. He laid his hands on Sams forearms and tugged them away, shooting the younger man a furious glance over his shoulder.

„I need a shower.", Dean stated. „Without you.", he added and vanished into the bathroom with the fresh clothes and the first aid kit.

Sam stood there for a while, looking at the shut and locked bathroom-door before he let out a deep sigh and sat down on his half of the bed. He stared on the floor for a while, examine the creepy yellow-green carpet, and trying to figure out what had made Dean mad like this. But he didn't really came to a conclusion. He haven't ever seen him like this. - At least not towards him. Dean never had let out his frustrations on Sam. Not that he did now … _but_ … Dean didn't want him right now, he could tell. Dean had never tugged him away, not because of an event like this.

After another deep sigh Sam turned towards his bag and picked up some fresh clothes and his own first aid kit. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the tee over his skin on his chest already started to bruise under a thin layer of blood. At the first sight it looked worse than it actually was. Some of the rocksalt left small wounds, but nothing too bad. It'd heal.

Finally the shower was heard in the bathroom as Sam cleaned his chest with the antiseptic. After that was done, he decided to take his shower in the morning. It's been a long day and a longer night. And he was tired, just so damn tired. So Sam changed into his sweatpants and the hoody he had gotten from Dean and Bobby about a year ago … when he had freed him and saved him from the other creatures fangs on this supernatural market. Sam loved that piece of fabric and wore it as often as he could.

The younger hunter crawled under the covers and curled up on his side, recalling the past hours over and over again. Dean had never denied him. Not even when he was pissed as hell. Never. And somehow it hurt deep inside, seeing him acting like this. _Sams palm closed around the dogtag on his necklace as his thoughts drifted off further._ On the other hand … it didn't mean anything, did it? They'd talk about it tomorrow or just forget about it …

Sam had dozed off and woke again, when he felt die mattress behind him sink in, the covers lifted slightly and a warm body settled down beside him. Sam heard the hunters deep and even breaths and a warm and gentle hand on his shoulder.  
„Sammy?" Deans voice was low and filled with guilt.

But the younger hunter didn't move, nor did he want to talk right now. He just wanted to leave it be. He wasn't a man of discussions … not with Dean. Whatever had overcome the older hunter it had its reasons for sure and he would tell him when the time would be ready. Hopefully tomorrow.

 _Sams thoughts drifted off again …_ Maybe he had done something wrong without knowing? … But Dean had told him everything about ghost possessions … and it wasn't their first case that included one. They had got one about two months ago … a amulet that carried the ghost with it and possessed everyone who wore it. - This time there was no item … so both of them had figured that it was a regular possession, nothing special.

Deans hand shifted, traced down over Sams bicep and rested on his side, as the older hunter moved closer until his chest made contact with Sams back. He felt the comfortable warmth of the taller mans body on him, his soft skin and the i-fake-sleeping-breaths.

Dean felt sorry. He didn't knew what had pissed him off. Oh well … he knew what. Alone Sams presence had made him angry and the attempt to hug him even more. It was Sams fault, that it hadn't went down like he had planned it – AGAIN. Like all the other times before … all the other hunts they got over together the past six months – it was a disaster. Dean stopped his thoughts as he realized what way they took … this wasn't true … none of this was. He'd been dead at least a couple of times wouldn't there had been Sam beside him. _Today had just been a bad day._

Though he didn't mean to push **him** away … _not really_. It just had felt weird. _Plain weird_. Maybe because he had been on the graveyard and the dead girl with his thoughts. And the fact that he wasn't able to recall what had happened after he got flung around after he had thrown the lighter into the pit.

Sam felt Deans warm breath on his neck and shoulder as the hunter moved even closer and wrapped his upper arm around Sams waist to tug him closer.

„I'm sorry, Sam." Dean whispered gently and kissed his shoulder. „I didn't mean to be a dick." he sighed. „It was just a long day."  
Sam shifted slightly and uncurled himself, while he tangled his fingers in Deans. „Have i messed up?"

The older hunter tightened his grip. „No – hell no, Sammy, you haven't messed up. It just didn't work as we planned it. We didn't saved her ..."

Sam turned around and faced the older male. Big green hazel-orbs catching his look. „You told me, that we can't save everyone."

Dean smiled, watching Sams face and the small dimpled when he put on a light smile. He guided his lips towards Sams and kissed him softly. The younger male kissed him back and wrapped his arms around Dean.

„I don't know what i would do without you, Sam. You're my everything, you know that, right?"

Sam just smiled and covered his lips with Deans tender cushions. „Yours.", Sam whispered smiling.

* * *

Dean wrinkled his nose and yawned as he stretches his body. Sams place beside him was empty but he could still feel the warmth under the covers. The older hunter smiled and his eyes snapped open as he heard the shower going on. His smile morphed into a wide grin and he swung his legs out of bed. Dean looked down on himself, his private parts only covered by the blanket as the cool air tingled on his exposed skin. Yeah . Shower sounded great – _with Sam_.

Sam let the hot water rain down on his back, bracing himself against the tiles with his hands. He didn't hear the bathroom-door open and close, he didn't even recognize the shower-curtain as it moved aside.

Just the cool breeze of air tore him out from his thoughts and he looked up to meed Deans gaze on him, all over him, taking him in, examining the younger mans wet body. Sam smiled tired and made space in an inviting gesture.

Dean stepped in, glancing at the taller mans chest. Sam smiled shyly and examined the hunters toned body with his looks. The hunter had used the first aid kit yesterday night in the bathroom. There had been dried blood in the sink and on the floor. Not much, just a few drops … but enough to let Sam worry. It got something like a ritual to check each other over after a hunt. Even small gashes or scratches were able to cause inflammations and blood poisoning in the end.

The younger hunter stepped closer, laying one hand on Deans chest and the other one on his waist, fixing his gaze. Then he covered his lips with Deans big soft cushions, brushing with his tongue along his lips, like he was asking for permission to pass them.

„You've been hurt." Sams voice was low and hoarse.

The most sexy thing Dean had ever heard. _This_ was Deans heaven … _only his_ – no one else would ever get the chance to be intimate like this with the big guy opposite of him. No one else was allowed to have THIS except him.

As Sam kissed him again - caressing the hunters body with his long fingers and giant hands, and the hot water tickled over the small sewed up cut on his flank - he knew he was were he belonged to. Right here right now and no one would be able to take it from Dean. Ever.

The older hunter made a low guttural sound as he touched the wet slippery skin on Sams back, feeling the radiating warmth against his body.

„Nothing bad. Just a scratch.", he replied and tugged his nails gently into the younger males skin.

Sam let his fingers run up on Deans sides, feeling stitches on Deans right flank of the ribcage. It didn't feel big, but it had needed stitches, what meant it had to be deep. He rested his hand on the small injury, just for a couple of seconds, before Dean guided his fingers away from it. „No big deal.", he muttered and pressed himself against Sam, pushing him backwards against the warmed tiles, nuzzling on the sensitive skin of his neck.

They spent the whole warm water before they got out of the shower, dried each other up and emerged fully clothed - ready to hit the road again.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


**Chapter 2 ~ Sick**

Short after they had left the motel Dean started a fever, felt sick and tired. Too tired to hold his eyes on the road before him. So he let Sam drive his precious baby and settled on the passengers seat. He curled up and leaned his head on the cool window, drifting off to sleep. They decided to head back to Bobby's and their cabin to recover. Sam glanced at Dean from time to time. Taking the sleeping man in and checking his forehead - unrecognized by the older hunter - from time to time.

Dean had never been sick since they knew each other. That was why the younger male was kind of unsure how to deal with it. He stopped at a gas station to get some water bottles and something to eat, pushing him to empty it.

The younger hunter laid a hand on Dean thigh and left it there most of the time, rubbing gently circles in the denim, like Dean had done it on him before. The older hunters breathing sounded okay. No coughing, no sneezing … just a fever. A low fever. But Sam didn't like that he man beside him slept that much, seemed extremely tired and short before they reached the salvage, Dean had complained about a slight headache.

Sam jumped out of the car and hurried around to the passenger's seat, opening the door carefully and helped the older male out. Dean grunted and moaned. His whole body hurt and sting, his head was throbbing as hell. The bright sun-light bored in his eyes, so he squeezed them shut and let him led into the cabin, where Sam settled him on the couch. Dean moved and stirred until he laid in a more comfortable position. Then he felt a warm blanket covering him and a gentle big hand on his left cheek and then on his forehead. He didn't dare to open his eyes, afraid the daylight could send another searing pain thru his skull.

After a while it got warm around him. He heard the burning wood in the cabins fireplace rustling, and clanking dishes in the kitchen. Everything was like in a haze. Blurry and filled with pain and thoughts that didn't seem to belong to him. At least it felt that way.

„Dean?", he heard Sams soft voice and a gentle touch on his shoulder.

He blinked his eyes open carefully, noticing, that the curtains were shut and just the light of the fireplace lightened the room slightly. His gaze fell on the younger mans face above him, smiling softly.

„Guess I'm gettin' sick.", Deans voice was hoarse and strained as he had screamed for hours.

„It's OK. I'm here." Sam kneeled down beside the couch, a big mug in his hands. „Made you some soup."

Dean got up on his elbows and raised his head a little bit, looking at the mug. It smelled like one of these instant-soups you got in gas-station-shops. Vegetable and Chicken in this case. He smiled knowing. „You're a sweetheart, Sammy."  
He sat up and let his legs slide from the smooth surface to the cold wooden floor. He took the mug from the man to his feet and took a zip. Sam instantly adjusted the blanket, so it covered the older male's lab and legs and tugged it under his feet.

„Good?", Sam asked and sat back on his heels. „- i wasn't sure wich one you'd like … and they looked all the same."

Dean chuckled. „They're all the same, Sunshine."

Sam blushed and smiled shyly. „Oh."

„You shouldn't sit on the floor. - It's damn cold.", Dean stated and laid a hand beside him on the couch.

Sam nodded. „I can get a chair later. - You should lay down again." He watched him and got caught in Deans soft emerald-green dark orbs as he did so.

„There's enough place for both of us ..." Dean cocked an eyebrow and grinned. „Ya know?"

It was Sams turn to chuckle. „Yeah, but you're sick and running a fever."

„Doesn't mean we can't lay here together." the older man answered and his grin grew wider, reaching his eyes.

Sam got up with a hiss. His chest still hurt from the small wounds and the bruises the rocksalt had left on him. He settled down on the couch beside Dean who emptied the mug with soup with two long swigs and laid back on the couch. He inched back until he felt the backrest against him and lifted the blanket for his love, the crawl under it.

The young man instantly slung his arms around the older one and moved as close as even possible, guiding one hand on his neck and letting it rest there.

„Better?", Sam asked and brushed with his nose over Deans forehead, feeling the unnatural warmth radiating from him.

„Better.", Dean muttered and tightened his grip around him, burying the face in the crook where Sams neck and shoulder met. „Much better now."

The older man drifted off to sleep moments later, while Sam stood away, playing with the short hair in the older males neck and relaxing against him, until it was time to get up and get some more logs on the fire.

Then he searched for a thermometer and prepared another mug of soup. This time it said something like chinese chicken soup with noodles – sadly there weren't a lot of noodles in it, so he went to Bobby. It was freezing outside. White mist poured out of his mouth as he stood in front of the entrance, waiting for the older hunter to open.

Finally the door opened and Bobby lurked thru a small gap outside. His eyes widened in surprise. „Sam?"

„Yeah, hey Bobby."

The older hunter opened the door and let the young man in. „How did the hunt go?"

Sam smiled. „Good. - But. Dean caught a cold or something. He's running a fever and … i actually didn't find a thermometer in the house. - And i wanted to ask if you have noodles? - I bought some soups, but somehow … there aren't a lot of noodles in it.", he started to explain.

Bobby chuckled and closed the door behind Sam. „A cold, hu?"

Sam nodded.

„Of course I've noodles. - I also have some soup in tins – much better than the instant-stuff. - And a thermometer should lie around here too. - Tylenol?", Bobby glanced at Sam over his shoulder, as he went into the kitchen to start and pack a basket with the things Sam had asked for.

„Want a coffee? - You look tired ...", he recognized and shot another glance over his shoulder towards the younger male.

He just shook his head. „No – i've to get back to the cabin. Don't wanna leave him alone too long."

Bobby nodded as he put a bag of noodles in the basket and hurried into the living room, from where he returned with the thermometer. He put it in the basked and handed it to Sam and nodded gratefully.

„You're a lifesaver, Bobby.", he admitted smiling.

„If you need something just call. - Gonna pass by at the evening and bring you both some dinner, hu?", he asked and furrowed his forehead in worry.

„That's nice. - Thanks AGAIN." Sam chuckled shyly.

„Always welcome, Son.", Bobby answered and held the door open for Sam as he left. He blew out a low sigh … when the hell had he became their mum?

Sam cooked some noodles and added them to one of the soups from the tins Bobby had gave him, adding some salt to make it taste better and sat it on the table in front of the couch as he got there. He laid a hand on Deans forehead and frowned. The fever didn't seem to drop – at least for now.

He put two pills and the thermometer beside the mug and squeezed Deans shoulder gently.

„Hey, wake up, Dean.", Sam whispered and bowed over him.

The older male stirred and moaned.

„Got some soup for you, tylenol and a thermometer to stick in your ass.", Sam grinned cheeky.

That had drawn Deans attention. His ass snapped open wide and he faced Sam with a mix of disbelieve and confusion on his face. „What do you want to stick where?"

Sam chuckled. „Nothin'. Want you to eat some soup, the pills and take your temperature." He sad down beside Dean on the edge of the couch and smiled tiredly.

„Sure. - Bobby?", Dean asked, his voice husky and his eyes dazed.

The younger man just nodded and helped him sit up. Then he plugged the thermometer under Deans armpit, tugged the tylenol in his mouth and let him swallow them with the luke warm soup.

„That's good.", Dean moaned exhausted and took another zip.

Sam waited for the thermometer to make his beep and took it away from Dean again. „100.9." Sam frowned and glanced at the older man.

„hu, not that bad. - Nothing the tylenol won't get down.", Dean joked and emptied the mug. „You've eaten already?"

Sam looked up and stared at him, thinking if he had … or hadn't … he had tried the soup on occasion.

„No – Bobby's gonna bring us dinner later." he didn't lie … there was no point in it, since Dean would've known in an instant. „Saving up my hunger for that." and smiled.

Dean nodded and pulled the taller man into a gently kiss. A soft hmmmmm left his lips and laid his hand on Sams thigh.

„You taste like soup.", Sam stated as Dean pulled away.

„and noodles.", the older man added with a smile before he settled his mouth on Sams again, lapping on his lips until he let him in, mapping and exploring the younger mans mouth. Dean slipped with his hand under Sams shirt and tee, feeling the soft skin over toned muscles beneath it …

A knock on the door interrupted their exploration vehemently and Sam backed off slowly.

„We could skip dinner.", Dean breathed in the younger mans ear and nipped on his earlobe.

Sam blushed and smiled promisingly. „No, we can't. - I'm starving and you need to get something solid into you." He got up and let Bobby in, who carried a heavy basket in his hands.

„Hey Boys.", He greeted with a smile and glanced towards the couch, where the older one sat and held his head in both hands.

„Hey.", Sam pointed at the kitchen, where the older hunter started to lay out their dinner. Meanwhile Sam got back to Dean and helped him up, to guid the swaying man to the small kitchen table and let him set down on one of the four chairs.

While the three of them ate they talked about their hunt and filled Bobby in. Not yet foreshadowing that this hadn't been a simple salt and burn … that this hadn't been a ghost or spirit ….

* * *

After a couple of days Dean felt better. Whatever it had been it was nearly gone and he was as good as new. Though …. some kind of an odd feeling stayed with the Winchester … a feeling he wasn't able to push back, forget, nor get out of his mind … and it grew with every hour, every minute, every second that passed.

* * *

It started one week later … first it were just looks and glances. Nothing profound, nothing Sam could've put his finger on.

Sam first didn't realize it … didn't want to … ignored it. But than … then things happened that Sam couldn't ignore anymore. The hunter started to push him away. Mentally and physically. Dean didn't want to join him in the shower anymore. He didn't make breakfast for them both, nor did he seem to care about Sams nightmares. That's when Deans disgusted looks towards Sam began. Glares filled with anger and worthlessness. He bitched at him because of _sleepless nights_. The rougher times they spent in bed together. The non-cuddling times after and in between. The gentle foreplays … the kisses were what Sam missed the most.

* * *

He had left bruises on him. On his neck, thighs …. and well yeah … Sam felt sore as he woke up. He tried not to show any signs of his vigilance, tried to fake being asleep, when Dean got out of bed, heading towards the shower.

He faked being asleep until Dean emerged, just covered in a towel around his waist. Sam felt Deans looks drilling into his body and he wanted to curl up into himself - as small as possible. But he didn't. He stayed like he was, his thoughts racing thru his mind, tears shining in the younger mans eyes. But he refused to cry.

This all had to be a bad dream, a nightmare and when he'd wake up it'd be over. Dean would be the old one again. He'd kiss and touch him again. Hug him, cuddle, be the one he was before. The one who still loved him …

That was when he felt a heavy weight hitting his stomach and his eyes widened.

„Get up. We've got a hunt three states over." Deans voice was cold and sober.

Sam swallowed hard. „Yeah, i'm coming.", he whispered sleepy.

„Be ready in twenty." Deans voice left no doubt about his dominance in this relationship.

The younger hunter didn't want to know what would happen if he wouldn't be ready then. It wasn't like Dean had hurt him physically … not really at least … but somehow … in the back of his mind there was _this fear_. Not of being hurt, or getting insulted in general. It hurt because it was Dean. The words that left his lips, or rather _didn't_. The way he touched him, or better said: _didn't_. The way he threatened him lately. _THAT_ hurt more than any kind of torture he was able to remember. The _pain and hurt_ the older mans looks, glances and behaviour were causing … it felt like Sam was in hell.

Maybe because he loved the hunter so badly that it hurt sometimes. Maybe it was because he still loved him and Dean didn't. And his heart broke every time a little more when Dean said something harsh to him. And it shattered every time they spent a night like **together** _TOGETHER_. And it hurt every time worse. Physically and _mentally_.

Sam didn't take a shower, he just dressed in fresh clothes, stuffed everything he thought he might need into his duffel-bag and hurried into the kitchen, where Dean leant against the counter, holding a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.

There was no breakfast. No second cup of coffee, no sweet I LOVE YOU. No gentle nudge, no hug, nor a kiss. Just a cold glance and something like defiance in his eyes.

Sam lowered his gaze. He instantly felt like he had done something wrong … wasn't worth to even walk among the worlds population … wasn't worth to stay with Dean, be near Dean.

„About time.", Dean stated, taking the younger man in as he was waiting for any kind of reaction.

„Dean.", Sams voice broke. „Can we talk?"

Dean cocked his head to the side and furrowed his forehead in surprise, glancing at the watch on his wrist. „Seven Minutes."

Sam swallowed and looked up for a moment, meeting cold emerald-green eyes. He didn't believe that this was happening … that Dean had changed so much. That this man wasn't the one anymore with whom he had fallen in love. But maybe, just maybe he could talk to him … like he was able to talk to him before. Maybe Dean would tell him what was wrong … What he had done to make him mad like this … Whatever it was … he could make it good again. No matter what it may cost.

„I – i …. you … i mean … we … you know we ...", he sighed, swallowing a sob as he held back his tears.

„Yeah Sammy?", Deans coldness cut into Sams heart like a sharp knife.  
„What happened to us?", Sam looked up again, seeing Deans wide grin filled with blissful rage, his eyes bright with bossy dominance. „ **You**." Dean answered as it was the most obvious in the face of the world.

Sam swallowed again. A single tear leaving the outer corner of his eye. „So ..."

„ _So_. - Either you come with me or you stay. - Just … when you come with … don't be in the way like the last time, OK?", Dean put the cup aside. „ _So_ … What's it gonna be?"

„I wanna go with you.", Sam whispered silently. He'd always go with him. All though … Sam hoped it was just a phase and everything would be back to normal after some time … _and if not_ … Well, he didn't want to think about that now. At least not yet.

„Fine.", Was the only answer he got.

* * *

Sam was the first one in the car, waiting for Dean who got the last few infos about their hunt from Bobby. A werewolf and six days left until the next full moon. They had to figure out who it was and kill it, before someone else would get hurt, turned or killed.

The younger male thought. He thought hard. About _when_ it all had started, _when_ everything began to go south between him and Dean. He thought about _what_ had happened before, _what_ probably could've made the hunter that angry. Every thought in his mind dragged him back to their last hunt, about three weeks ago. _The ghost possession_. The thought that Dean wasn't himself wouldn't leave him alone. Like he was possessed. **POSSESSED**.

What if they had missed something? Something _important_? What if the ghost didn't get stopped by burning his bones. What if the ghost was now possessing Dean? Or the spirit was bound to something … to an item maybe? What if the girl had carried it with her and Dean had picked it up? Or maybe it wasn't a ghost possession like they first thought? There wasn't any goo on the possessed people or anywhere near them. So if it hadn't been a possession by a vengeful spirit, what the hell could it have been else?

Sam got torn away from his thoughts as the drivers door opened and Dean slid behind the steering wheel.

„We've the address from the last victims wife.", he said and shoved a stack of files in Sams lab. „You gotta get thru them." He didn't even bother to look at Sam, who was waiting for at least a glance.

Sam just nodded. „Sure", and buried his nose in the files. He didn't even look up, as Dean stopped for gas and supplies … _for food_. Man, Sam was starving already.

„What'd you like?", The older hunter asked as he turned off the ignition.

Sam looked up for the first time during their drive and catched Deans gaze. He nearly seemed normal, wouldn't there have been this suspicious spark in the older mans eyes.

„Not hungry.", Sam answered low and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Nearly instantly a mix of frustration and rage flamed up in Deans eyes. „Nothin?", he asked, his voice strained and it sounded like he was battling for control.

Sam just sighed. „Yeah – Thank you." His lips curled up into a light smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. They remained tired and sad.

Dean left with a low growl, carried on a wave of anger. The younger male flinched as his partner slammed the door shut. They'd stop in a couple of hours again, taking a motel-room and get a couple of hours sleep before they would head towards their destination again.

So Sam used the alone-time and pulled his phone out. He looked at it for a brief second before he scrawled up and down his contacts until he finally made a decision. He needed help. And the only person he trusted enough … telling what was going on … was **Bobby**. And he dialed, waiting three long rings, never letting the entrance of the gas-shop out of his sight.

„Hey, Sam." Bobby sounded as he had woken him, but Sam ignored it. He didn't get time for apologies or small talk right now. If he was right and something was wrong … it wouldn't be a good idea to involve Dean at this point. Nor letting himself be caught by calling Bobby for help.

„Bobby listen. I haven't a lot of time. - Just listen OK?", Sam skipped the hello and came to the point.

„OK.", the old hunter sounded confused.

„You remember the hunt – the ghost possession three weeks ago?"

„Yeah, i do Son.", he sounded now more alert.

„OK – so … what if it wasn't a ghost possession? What else could it have been?" Sam watched Dean walking to the cash desk.

A short moment of silence on the other end of the line. „Everything and nothing i guess. - I'd need to do some research … what's wrong, Son?" Bobby asked even more confused.  
„Bobby please do me a favor, OK? Could you do some research for me? Just me." Sam saw the hunter emerging from the shop, a big bag in his hands. „Not Dean – just me."

„You're scaring me, boy. - What's going on?", some sort of panic swung in his voice.

„Nah, Bobby. - I don't know yet. - just .- i can't tell you more right now about it. - I'll call you in a couple of days."

Dean ran his fingers along the hood, examining Sams features. Sam watching Dean as he narrowed.

„Son?", Bobby asked.

The drivers door opened.

„Yeah, Bobby. OK. - So native mercury-bullets you say?" Honestly Sam didn't even know if something like this did exist, nor if it'd work. - He just needed something … anything … and all he was able to come up with that. Then he disconnected and shoved the phone back in his jeans pocket.

„Huhhh … Well, i don't own native mercury-bullets." Dean got behind the steering wheel and reached into the bag, pulling out a burger and a beer. Then he tossed the bag over to Sam. „Salad for you.", he stayed with a calculating smirk. „And water. - We don't want you to get fat, do we?"

Sam nodded and looked at him confused.

„Anything about the job?". Dean asked as he unpacked his burger.

„No – but i think … because of the evidences … it could be the last victims wife." He cleared his throat.

„You _THINK_?", Deans voice dropped. „Should i kill an innocent woman, because **YOU** _THINK_ she could be the monster?"

The younger man swallowed. „No – of course not … i'm not through with all the files yet.", he muttered and lowered his gaze on the paper-bag in his lab.

„Well then – get your geek brain goin'. - The werewolf won't wait for us. - I'm not ging to kill someone because **YOU** _THINK_ he or she's the monster."

Sam swallowed again. „Yeah sure."

„First you eat. - Don't want you to **faint** on the hunt later."

Sam obeyed. He had to play along. As long as possible. As long as necessary. Besides Dean was right. He didn't want to **pass out** during a job.

… _... to be continued_

  
  


* * *

**Chapter 3 ~ Don't You Cry No More**

Four endless hours later – the night already spread over the land – the Impala pulled onto the parking lot of a small motel. Dean went into the office to book them a room while Sam gathered their bags from the trunk. Together they made their way in silence towards their room furthest from the office.

Dean held the door open to let Sam pass, pushing it right back into the lock right after him. Before the younger male was able to move to the bed, a strong grip held him back, shoving him back at the door and Dean pinned him against it with his body.

The older male put his hands to the left and right beside Sams head and spread his palms on the flat surface. He pressed tighter against Sams body, taking a deep inhale of his scent and exhaled a hot breath over the sensitive skin of the younger once neck.

Sam shifted and swallowed. His hand tightened around the nooses of the bags in his hands, as Dean guided his knee slowly upwards between his legs until he felt the rough denim of Sams jeans rubbing against his own.

„You haven't found anything in the folders did you?" His voice husky and low, fixing Sams gaze with dark emerald-green eyes. Deans look was dangerous and filled with arousal.

Sam shook his head. „No i haven't.", he answered quietly, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

„Guess i've to teach you a lesson." Dean leaned more into him, closer, as he wanted to push him thru the door.

„Dean." Sam tried to keep his voice stable but failed miserably. - There were many things he wanted to do, to say … but not this … not with this man, not right now. Not with the Dean that threatened him like he wasn't worth it. „I'm – I'm not in the mood."

Deans forehead furrowed and his eyes lit up with something the younger man didn't want to name. „You're _what_?", he asked in disbelieve, the arousal in his eyes backed away to show sheer growing rage.

„Sorry. - I'm just tired." Sam knew it wasn't a good idea to contradict the older hunter.

Dean swallowed, the rage in his look morphed into pure disgust. „ _Tired_? **YOU** are tired?", he asked, backing away a couple of inches, his voice filled with annoyance. He scuffed and looked down at Sam. „You're such an ungrateful brat." He looked up, his eyes like liquid green fire. „You're saying _NO_ to ME? - After all I've done for _you_? I'm taking care of _you_ , protecting _you_? - I saved your sorry ass, Sam." He nearly yelled at him in the end.

Sam lowered his gaze, tears glistening in his eyes.

„What? - What's that? - Are you gonna cry now? - What are you? Five? - No wonder your family's dead. Such a cry-baby like you ..." he scuffed and shook his head. „Maybe i shouldn't have bought you. I should've left you there. - Rotting there, leaving you to these monsters." Another pause. „Obviously it is too much to ask for a little favor of yours, hu?", pure anger riding his voice. Dean buried a hand in the younger mans hair, gripping it tight and yanked his head back against the door. „You're sayning _NO_ to me after all i've gave up for **you**?"

„Dean. - C'mon. Please. - I'll do it, OK? I'll make it up to -", but he got stopped by a forceful hit of the hunter fist, colliding with his jaw and sending Sam streight to the floor.

First he didn't realize what had hit him. He saw stars, his jaw thumbed … Then he looked up at Dean in disbelieve and hurt – _Did he just hit him?_

Dean stormed to the bed, yanked the covers off and grabbed one of the pillows, throwing them beside Sam on the floor. „I think you've to learn where you belong – **AGAIN**. I obviously left you too much freedom."

The taller man laid a hand on his jaw. There'd ba a bruise for sure tomorrow. „Go and get a shower you filthy bastard. - you stink.", Dean added disgusted and shot him a cloyed look.

Sam held back his tears and swallowed a sob, as Dean turned away and threw himself in the middle of the king-size-bed. „And hurry. - Don't use all the warm water."

 **Play along, boy, just play along.** And he did.

He snatched his duffel-bag from the floor and stirred thru it, looking for fresh clothes. He came across the hoody he had gotten from Bobby and Dean right after they had won him on that auction. It didn't feel that soft anymore, the fabric was worn out since it was one of Sams favorite pieces. A slight smile run over his lips but morphed into a sad expression as his grip tightened around the fabric. He finally pulled it out and added a pair of clean sweat-pants to his stack of clothes. Then he did how he had been told. Sam took a fast shower and spent the night on the floor in the furthest corner of the room. Far away from _Deans_ sleeping place.

* * *

Sam got woken as the motel-room-door slammed back into the lock. He instantly felt the need to hide. To curl up and disappear, making himself invisible … all the _old fears_ , the _forgotten fears_ dared to come down over him all over again.

„Good Morning, Sam." Dean sounded cheerful and happy this morning. Completely different from last night.

Sam followed him with his look to the table, where the hunter placed a bag. He couldn't do anything else but obey his need to inch back into the corner and tugging the blanket closer to his chest. Sure he could've tried and defeat Dean. But what would it cost? Dean was a better hunter, a faster hunter. Years of experience and training had turned him into a war-machine …

Sam didn't want to cause a physical fight. _Not now_. Not as long as he didn't know what was going on. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to defend himself … even if it was about his own life. This was still Dean. Somewhere in this body, in this mind. - There had to be the man he had fallen in love with. - somewhere. And _despite everything_ … he still loved him. Because he was sure. Sam was sure that _his Dean_ would never treat him that way.

The hunter pulled a smaller bag out and a paper mug with coffee and glanced at Sam.

His eyes … his look … was there regret? Was there something in his face that asked for forgiveness? Sorrow?

Dean walked over to Sam and squat down, placing the cup and the bag on the floor about a yard in front of the younger man. The next moment there was it again … his features soaked in rage and anger.

Dean held Sams look for a moment, then he returned to the table and sat down in one of the chairs, unpacking his own breakfast.

Sam wanted to refuse … at first … but he couldn't. He had to be strong, he had to keep going, he had to hold on. He had to figure out what was wrong. So he ate and he drunk and got dressed while Dean was in the bathroom. Unnoticed from the older hunter he examined Deans duffel-bag, the dirty clothes … there was nothing that didn't belong to him. Nothing that wasn't Deans – so no object where the spirit could've hold on. Except he had taken it with him in the bathroom.

Before the hunter came back, Sam had long left the motel-room and waited for him in the car.

* * *

Three hours later they checked in another motel. Another room. Another silence.

As Sam entered, he didn't believe what he saw. Two king size single beds. Either they had given Dean the wrong room or …. Dean had chosen this for both of them. What probably was the better way at the moment, and somehow Sam felt relieved but still stunned about it.

Dean walked past him and started to unpack his duffel-bag on the bed furthest from the door, laid them out on it and sat down on the other one. He stared at the weapons for a long time … watching them, examining them one after another.

„Do your research." Dean didn't look up, his words came out in a low-spoken order. „I'll hit the road and see what i can find out. - When i come back,", he looked up and at Sam, „i want you to have results."

Sam lowered his gaze and walked slowly to the table. „Yes Sir.", the words came out soaked in sarcasm.

Dean blew out a bugged snort. Then Sam heard fast footfalls and in the other second he found himself on the floor – AGAIN – covering his face and head as the first kick hit his ribcage and a second one in his stomach followed.

„For the record: _YOU TREAT ME WITH RESPECT_.", Dean took a step back. „ **You hear me?** " He demanded yelling.

Sam wrapped his arms around his stomach, trying to take a deep breath as all the oxygen got blown out of his lungs as another kick followed.

„YOU HEAR ME?" The hunter stepped back again and Sam nodded shakily. „When i come back – i want to have results."

Sam nodded again.

„Where's the respect, bastard?" Dean seemed completely losing control over himself. He yelled, his eyes blown wide in rage again.

„Yes Sir.", Sam answered in a low whisper.

„Can't hear ya.", Dean raised his voice, eyes glowing dangerously.

„Yes Sir.", the younger man answered louder.

After a satisfied snort of the hunter, Sam just heard the motel-door close before darkness took him.

* * *

He had woken up short after. It probably just had been a couple of minutes. Sam blinked his eyes open and got aware of his hurting ribs and stomach as he turned on his back. A searing pain shot thru him and he started to cry. He cried shameless, loud, sobs, hitching breaths and the pain. His body was hurting like a bitch … but _this_ wasn't the worst. - _His heart hurt a lot more_. He wasn't crying because of his ribs, nor of his stomach or jaw … he was crying because it was _Dean_. **Dean** who had done it to him. _Dean_ who had promised to protect him, take care of him … _Dean_ who had promised he'd never would lay a hand on him, beat him … and now?

What the hell was just happening? What the hell had he done wrong? How did he deserve this? He thought with _HIM_ everything would change. His life'd get better. That the two of them were happy …

When he had regained control over himself again and the crying had stilled, he called Bobby. Asking if he had found something new, something that'd explain what was going on right now …

„ _Since you said he's not wearing anything with or on him … - and because of the story about the hunt you both told me …. it's rather a curse or a_ **os nigrum bestiae** _. Both ain't good._ ", Bobby said with bitterness.

„Means you think it's probably an _os nigrum bestiae_?", Sam asked, trying to stay objective. He could tell what was going on in the old mans head, because Bobby didn't seem convinced that it was a curse. And a curse would've been too obvious. It wouldn't have started that late after the hunt and it wouldn't have taken that long to show the first signs of being hexed … „What the hell is an **os nigrum bestiae** anyway?`"

„ _Nothing good, Son. - It's … it's a bitch. - But it'd fit perfectly ... after everything that had happened after you guys returned from the hunt ..."_ Bobby sighed. _"The lore says the os nigrum bestiae is the bone of a black dog – a hellhound. It burnt in the fires of hell. Bound to it is the soul of a bad man or woman. Murderers in the first place – that got tortured in hell for eons until their souls are as black as the hellhounds fur."_ The skillful hunter sighed again. _„It says that these are the worst of the worst of human souls that are chosen for this. - BUT … to take effect it has to be_ **IN** _the body of someone. - The lore also tells, that demons use them to spread chaos, destroy love - damadge the good stuff."_

„The cut.", Sam muttered pensively.

„ _Yeah. - An other thing is … the person who's carrying the thing inside, is gettin' sick. Some die. Some get over it lightly. - Anyways … After the sickness - it slumbers - or at least isn't noticable for the people around … and then it starts. The lore says it's poisoning his vessel until nothing's left of the personality. It's gonna turn the human into a monster as it is himself … - ..."_

Sam swallowed. „And … what can i do? - Is there _something_ … **Something** that tells how to get rid of it?"

 _„Cut it out."_ , Bobby answered right away. _„But i guess he won't let you ...?"_

Sam snorted. "We've separated beds, Bobby. - So no ... i don't think he'll let me come near him. Not with a knife anyway."

 _"I'd suggest that you come to the salvage. Get your stuff together and get the hell out of there. - You won't be able to handle_ **THIS** _on your own. Not in your condition. - Nothing about ya skills at this point ... but ... that's a pretty big fish we're talking 'bout here. - Nothin' for a greenhorn, ya know?"_ Bobby made a pause until he got a silent "yeah" from Sam. _"Dean's gonna follow you for sure. - He'll come for you and then we'll figure it out. - We're gonna need a plan. Dean ain't stupid. He's one of the most skillful hunters i know. - And now ... controlled by such a demonic thing ... you're gonna need help."_

Sam nodded and took a deep inhale. "You're probably right, Bobby." He exhaled audible and shook his head in disbelieve. "It's gonna take me about a day to get to you." He made a short pause to think. "I'll call you as soon as i'm on my way, OK?"

 _"OK. - Just get out of the motel. - Go now and don't look back. Otherwise you ain't goin' to leave, Son."_ Bobby reassured him. _"I can imagine that it's hard. - But you gotta do this - for the both of you."_

Yeah, he had to do this. He had to do this FOR DEAN. And Bobby was right, he knew it, even when his gut told him otherwise. He had to leave, to save the both of them. He had seen the other victims. Not just the ones who had been tortured by their loved ones ... he knew that they were killing themselves in the end, when their mind cleared and the hate was gone. So he had to do this. He had to leave Dean behind no matter how much it hurt.

* * *

Half an hour later he was ready to hit the road. He didn't make up a plan how he would get to Bobby's, but he was sure he would figure something out. Since he didn't like to take things from others he wanted to hitchhike a car or truck - or travel with the bus.

Sam threw a last glance into the room, Deans duffel-bag on one bed, the weapons on the other one, then he closed his eyes for a second, reassuring himself that it was the right thing to do. That Dean would be fine. That Bobby had a solution … Bobby had always a solution.

So he laid his hand on the doorknob and turned it around, sunken and covered in thoughts and the plan he had made up with the older hunter. Sam opened the door into a wide angle and took a step forward, just to bump into a shorter figure right in front of him. **Dean**. He snapped out of his thoughts and stared in two relentless cold emerald-green eyes.

„Where are we going?" Dean shoved him back into the room and slammed the door shut.

Sam stumbled backwards and let the bag slide from his shoulder. „To Bobbys.", he answered. - There was no need to tell a lie. Dean'd look streight thru it. He wouldn't leave the room with his packed duffel … not at night ... not ever. Not if he hadn't the intentions to leave ...

Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. „Look – I don't want this anymore, OK?" … _just try to get away - don't make a big deal of it_ … getting away before something worse would happen. - Before either of both would get hurt … or die.

„You wanna leave?", Dean asked as he cocked his baretta and set the barrel on Sams chest, right above his heart.

„No. - i mean … yes. I wanna leave. Maybe we should spend some time separated from each other.", Sam spoke completely open. Said what he would've said if this wasn't because of something supernatural happening to them. „Just a few days. - To clear our heads. - To sort out our thoughts ..."

Dean unlocked his gun. „No. - You won't leave. You _are_ **mine**. YOU belong to me. _I PAID_ for **YOU**.", he hissed his nose furrowing, pure white anger crossing his features. „You leave when i let you leave. - The only way you'll leave me is when they carry you outside in a coffin, Sam."

Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat and caught the hunters gaze. He couldn't take it anymore. This wasn't him. He had learned to have faith into himself. Faith into what he became - what Dean had formed him into. Sam wasn't afraid anymore, not the way he was before. He had changed - Dean had changed him. Dean had taught him that he was worth something. That his life was worth something. That he was human after all and that he was loved. That Dean loved him. He couldn't just let it go. Couldn't give it up like this. Sam was ready to fight, fight the one thing that was changing the person he trusted the most. The one person in his life he loved and adored.

„Half a year ago … you told me, that no one owns me. Not even you. That no one has the right to beat me like THEY did. - You said you love me. You'll watch out for me … and now?", he just couldn't take it anymore. He had to get thru his Dean - somehow - he just had to, he had to try ... and even if it was wrong or if he failed ... it didn't matter now. Dean was already too far gone to get away from him without a fight. "I love you, Dean. - I love you so much it sometimes hurts. - And now? I don't know what this is what we have right now, but it's not what i want. And I'm sure it's not what you want either. - What happened to the promises you gave me, Dean?"

The older males lips curled up into an evil grin, that took in his whole face. Deans orbs blazed in dark liquid green fire. „Surprise, surprise … i've lied.", he growled and with one fast motion he knocked Sam out with the butt of his gun.

_... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


**Chapter 4 ~ The Last Fight**

He awoke on a cold hard surface. His head was pounding, his ribs stinging. His arms felt sore from the unnatural ankle they were in. Cold hard metal digged into the soft flesh of his wrists, tearing on his skin. Then – before he was able to wrap his mind around the fact that he was bound – before he was able to catch a clear thought – everything went dark again.

* * *

The past three days went by in a haze of confusion, disorientation and pain. Sometimes he had the feeling that he was back in the basement. That Dean had just been a dream, nothing but a blissful wish to escape from the hunters torture. Every time he tried to hold on a memory of the hunter who saved him from ending up as bait or puppet for demons or angels, it faded before it had a chance to get lucid and clear.

Then there were hands on him, around him. He felt them. He thought he felt Dean. Sam thought it was him. Thought he heard the hunters voice. At some point he heard a phone ring – HIS PHONE, the one Dean had given to him. Dean wasn't just an imagination. It was real, and he tried hard not to lose him all over the confusion of what was happening. Everything was too loud, too fast, too blury. Sam felt _him_. Felt _him_ on him, on his bare skin, in him … and he didn't want. _This wasn't Dean._ This wasn't the man he had loved. - The man he still loved. The man he had to save – save from the dark forces of the object that were making him do these things.

 _His Dean_ wouldn't want this. _His hunter_ wouldn't hurt him like this, ever. Dean would've protected him, would've killed himself before he'd have done anything of this to Sam. So Sam would do everything to save the hunter from his destiny under the possession of this thing. He had to … he couldn't let Dean kill himself … He had to stop it.

So he decided to give him what _this Dean_ demanded. Let him do whatever he wished to do – winning time to gather some strength for a desperate try and free the both of them from the darkness they were living in.

* * *

It was when Dean loosened the handcuffs again to put them off. It was then when the older hunter had thought, that Sam wouldn't try to fight him off anymore. It was then, when Sams eyes snapped wide open and the hunter in him recaptured control over every muscle, every thought in his beaten up body and mind, to break free. Shoving a pretty surprised Winchester backwards with such force, that the man landed on his buttocks in the middle of the room. He stalled enough time to get the knife from the bedside table. Despite his injuries, his double-vision and a cracked bone in his leg (wich one he had ignored until now), he was fast. Faster as he had thought by himself he would be.

But Dean didn't sleep. He was back on his feet in an instant, but was too late to get to the younger male in time. So he drew the knife he had tugged between waistband and belt of his jeans, holding it up in a dangerous gesture.

Sam fixed Dean as Dean fixed Sam with his look. Both of them were in hunter-mode and both of them were dangerous as hell. Even a hurt hunter was a dangerous hunter when it was all about his prey or about saving a life. The pain made them even more sensitive and alert, when it was mixed up with adrenaline. So was Sam.

They stood there for a while, staring at each other, assess each others skills. Sam knew he wouldn't win. He just had to try. Try and get near him, making this one single fast move, a small cut that was deep enough and if he was lucky it'd work as he had planned. It would just take a second or less. Everything that remained debilitating was his blurry double-vision. Sam tightened his grip around the knifes handle so that his knuckles turned white. He knew … if he'd fail now it was all over and both of them would die in the end.

Then it began … Dean didn't attack him right on. He wanted to make him tired, so he teased him, never letting him out of sight. The older hunter was taking him in. His movements, his speed and his weaknesses. He figured that Sams leg was hurt, that he was in pain and sore all over and that his vision wasn't the best since he blinked more often to clear and focus on his opposite.

Sam got tired and he felt his strength fading slowly … so he decided to make the first move. The plan was getting Dean under him somehow, holding him down, cutting the thing out of him. It just had to work. _Somehow_.

But it didn't. Dean was faster, stronger … more alert. So after a short wringing and a couple of punches later, they were where they had started from. Sam stood in front of Dean, about two yards between them, both panting and their heartbeat erratic.

They circled each other, knifes drawn, ready to attack or defend. What made them both different were their purposes. That Sam didn't want to kill Dean. He just wanted to free them both. Cutting the one thing out of Deans body that had caused it all. _All of this_. Burning the bone and everything would be OK again. He knew it wouldn't go over without a fight, without blood. At least not without Deans. It just would take a cut. A little gash. But the older hunter didn't let his guard down. There was no way Sam'd be able to come near the area on Deans body where the damned thing rested.

So Sam made the only decision he was capable of. Dean shouldn't have to die too. If it took to get hurt or even die to free Dean - keeping him alive … it would be worth it. He just wanted Dean to be OK again. To be him again. To – at least – look into the warm green emerald eyes for a last time. Feeling Deans gentle hands on him. One last time – talking to the man he loved from the bottom of his heart.

No, Sam didn't plan to die. - But if it'd happen it'd be OK. It'd be worth it. Dean would find someone else to like … to love. All though Sam thought he should've reacted faster, knowing it better. He should've sensed that this was something not natural that was going on. He thought that Dean might felt the way he acted now at some point. Because it had to come from somewhere didn't it? This thing in him … there had to be a base to build up on … to let it escalate that way. And maybe _this Dean_ was right at some point … with all the things he had said before …

Anyways. There was no time to think right now. It was time to act. He had to take care of this mess. At least he had to try.

So he pushed forward, faking an attack to Deans chest, as he snapped the knife back into his left hand, flicking it forward and tearing the fabric of Deans shirt and cutting into the soft flesh on his flank. In the split of a second after this had happened Sam felt it. Deans blade digging deep into his right side below his ribs.

The knife slipped out of Sams hand, as Deans weapon drew deeper into his body and sank in until skin touched the wooden shaft. The younger man tried to ignore the pain, his buckling knees, the agony and the sudden nausea that rolled over him. He had to get it out of Dean. Out of him before it was too late. Before the object could end this for both of them.

Sam tried to focus on Dean. On the man opposite of him. He had too. Otherwise it'd be too late. To late for both of them. So he focused. On the closeness between them. The closeness he haven't felt like in a lifetime, staring with big sadness filled hazel eyes into the coldest green eyes he had ever seen.

The younger hunter swayed. He couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop the dizziness claiming his body and mind. Then he felt one of Deans hands on his lower back, steadying him, twisting the blade in his body with the other one - trying to cause as much pain as possible - as a breathless gasp left Sams lips. As his knees buckled, Dean let him sink to the floor. Slowly, so slowly, as he didn't want to hurt him, while he held the knife in it's place. Savouring every single momento of the younger males pain, the hurt and desperation in his look. Dean kneeled over him, his hand still on the weapon remaining in Sams body.

Sam knew now, that he wouldn't make it. - Not in time at least … maybe … if he was able to draw it out … maybe he'd be able to save at least Deans life. Maybe Bobby had noticed something – anything maybe. He didn't know how much time had passed, what day it was … but he prayed … he prayed that their friend would come, and if he at least get a hold of Dean. _To save him._ Save him from what the thing would probably put him thru. Letting him regret what he had done, letting him suffer about it, taking the anger and rage away so that he was just Dean again. All Dean. A Dean who wouldn't be able to take this. Who wouldn't be able to get over this … That was what this thing did. That was what the other victims made kill themselves. Sam knew it now – he didn't know how, he didn't know why … but he knew it.

Dean should just know that he loved him. No matter what. That he'd forgive him, that he knew it wasn't the older male's fault. Nothing of that. That it all had happened because of the thing inside of him. Because of this small hell-bound bone …

„Love you … Dean." Sam whispered quietly. „I know this isn't you. - I just … wished … i'd … i'd could've got you back in time." Sams voice was shaking.

An evil grin spread over Deans face and he yanked the knife out of the mans body below him. Blood soaked instantly through the thin fabric of Sams shirt. Blood dripping from the knife above.

„This _IS_ me, Sammy." Deans grin went wider as he raised the knife high above the younger mans chest.

Right above the place where Sams heart slowed down with every beat that pumped more blood out of his wound.

* * *

Bobby held the phone in his hands, dialing Sams number again, but he didn't pick up. So he laid it on the passenger's seat and gripped the steering wheel of his Pick-Up-Truck tighter, pushing the gas pedal down.

He should've known that something was wrong when Sam didn't arrive, didn't pick up his phone since their last talk. He already had waited too long. He had called Dean before he had left the salvage, trying to find out what was going on. If Sam had even left, or if he just didn't reach the salvage. Dean sounded like usual … the normal bad ass comments and things … it was actually a pretty fine talk … wouldn't there have been Bobby, knowing that the hunter on the other line wasn't himself anymore. Was kind of possessed. As he wanted to talk to Sam, Dean had just said that he was fast asleep already. That he didn't want to wake him …

The next two hours went over slow. Too damn slow. Bobby made it in one hour and thirty minutes instead of two hours and forty-five minutes after he had tracked down Deans phone in a small motel three states over.

Bobby pulled down on the parking lot, slamming in the breaks and jumped out of his car. A silver blade reflected suspiciously the pale light of the street lamp, as he pushed forward. Targeting the room farthest from the office. He didn't knock, he didn't call – he pushed the door handle down and slammed the door open and _there they were_. Dean kneeled over Sam, his knife raised above the younger hunters chest, ready to end what the demonic object had started.

* * *

This was when he heard the motel-door bang open and recognized a blurry, furious Bobby storming into the room, pushing forward and throwing himself on Dean, off of Sam. And with a targeted cut the bearded man sliced another hole in Deans shirt - right where Sam had cut him - just deeper … not trying to be too careful, without hesitation. And he had placed it right. Right were the bone sat under Deans skin. Bobby held his friend down, the grip on his throat strong but not strangling, unless the man beneath him wasn't struggling against it.

The old man ignored Deans moaning, gasping and struggling, sliding a finger into the wound and feeling for the thing – the thing that had destroyed so many lives before … and now tried to take the both closest friends of him away. The ones he loved most … the both of them who became something like sons.

Bobby sat on Deans waist, as he finally felt it, squeezing it out with one smooth motion and tipping it aside, while he kept his position on the hunter. Waiting for Dean to get to himself again … if that was even possible after such a long time.

Deans eyes started to clear and anger shunned confusing, followed by realization. He gulped down whatever had let rise the lump in his throat and stared at Bobby. Then at the man on the floor a couple of feet away from him.

„ _No_ ", he breathed as he lay there, trying to take in what just had happened … what had happened to him … trying to control the fading anger and rage. „ _Sammy_?", his voice carried all the emotions that seemed to be lost in a world of darkness.

Bobby got off of him and with one single stride he was beside Sam, kneeling, praying that he wasn't too late. That he wasn't dead.

Sams head was turned away from both of them towards the busted door, until Bobby straightened his head, trying to make eye contact. Sams eyes remained unfocused and hazy … so unbelievable sad hazel-orbs trying to regain the force of life, trying to hold on.

„You got it?", Sam asked, one hand applying pressure on his wound, the other one raising, laying it on Bobby's bicep.

Then … there was a hand … not Bobby's hand. It felt rough, but still soft, caring. The hand covered his, putting more pressure on the wound at his side.

„Yeah, we got it Sam."; Bobby tried to smile, as he laid a hand on the tall mans shoulder.

„Thanks." Sam nodded gratefully, and took in another forced breath. „He's OK?"

The old hunter nodded. „Dean'll be alright, Son. - Don't you worry about it right now."

Sam smiled and made a small happy sound, nearly a lough.

The hand on his pushed down more firmly. „Sam?"

It was _Dean_. _\- Deans voice._ His voice and all the meanings in the warm spoken name he had missed for so damn long. It was _his Dean_. **His Dean.** He was back. It was Deans hand on his, trying to stop the bleeding. Trying to help him, saving him. Caring about him. This wasn't the best situation to feel released and happy about it probably, but Sam couldn't help it. He had to smile. A wide happy smile, brightening his eyes like the one of a kid on Christmas.

A strong smile, a happy chuckle. Sam couldn't believe they had made it. Bobby had made it. „Got you 'ack." Sams voice broke. „Oh god. - c't believe it."

Dean smiled. Tears filling his eyes as Sam tried to focus on him, tried to focus on his gaze. All this love, the warmth in those hazel-orbs. All this love, that he didn't deserve. The brightness glistening as he managed to focus on him, trying to hold eye contact, trying to stay with Dean, despite of all that had happened.

And Dean remembered it. Every damn thing. And he remembered the joy. The joy and satisfaction in everything he did. And he wanted more … always more. Hurting him more, causing mental pain until it wasn't enough anymore. But he felt it … he needed it … the urge to hurt Sam and killing him. Freeing himself from Sam for good. Freeing himself from the deep bounding love he felt for the man whose life he had saved once.

A silent sob came over Deans lips. „I'm here _Sammy_. - Don't move. - Just talk to me, ok?"

Sam still smiled. So satisfied, so happy … so grateful. „Love you.", he mouthed, his vocal cords and throat already too weak to form something.

„God … _Sammy_ , i'm so sorry. **So sorry.** I didn't want that. - I would've never … **Sam** … you've to believe me, please.", his voice hitched and broke while he stuttered away.

Bobby dialed 911 in the meantime, picking up towels from the bathroom and handing them to Dean. The younger hunter immediately lifted Sams hand up and put one of the clean towels on the wound. Sams and his own hand slippery from the enormous amount of blood that had soaked thru the shirt already. Dean applied pressure again and Sam gasped in pain, trying to breathe thru it over and over again.

„I'm gonna make it up to you – I'll try _Sammy_. - just give me a chance … just one chance." His eyes locked with fading green hazel-orbs, slowly loosing their brightness … and liveliness.

Deans hands were covered in blood. **Sams blood.** _Everywhere_. On Sams shirt, the towels, Sams neck, face, jeans … on the floor. Just everywhere, even on Dean and he couldn't tell how it had come there. On his own shirt, his own jeans, even his face.

The younger mans face turned pale, his skin covered in a thin layer of cold sweat and his breaths came out in small shallow gasps. He tried to lift his hand, touching Dean, feeling his warmth, wiping away the tears and telling him that it wasn't his fault. That he wasn't mad at him, that there was nothing to worry about. That he loved him. He still loved him.

„Should be here any minute.", Bobby took a deep inhale, as he laid two more towels beside Dean and got on his knees beside them.

„You hear me _sunshine_?", Dean tried to smile, not daring to break eye contact with the man under him.

„Yes Sir.", Sam mouthed carried on an exhale before he took another shallow breath. Sam closed his eyes for a second.

„No, don't you dare."; Dean squeezed his hand and sam obeyed.

He wasn't going to give up. He didn't plan to die. He was just too tired. Too sleepy. He just wanted to rest. Closing his eyes for a minute or two ...

Dean swallowed, as Bobby glanced at his watch. „Fife minutes."

„Damnit.", Dean cursed as he looked up at his older friend. „Where the hell are they?"

Sam opened his mouth tho say something. He had so much to say … so much he needed to tell Dean. He just wanted to let him know that it was okay.

Five long minutes later there were still no lights, no sirens, no ambulance.

„Bobby?", Dean asked.

Bobby pulled his phone out and called 911 again. The ambulance was involved in a car crash two blocks away, unable to get there … so they had sent another one … That was when they heard the sirens. Bobby jumped up and hurried outside, leading them to the right motel-room.

Seconds later the paramedics streamed into the room, surrounded the injured man on the floor, a gurney was brought in. Someone shoved Dean backwards … it were Bobby's hands. Bobby's arms that held him back, not letting him there. Letting him to Sam.

„Son, you can't help him … let them work … let them take care of Sam." Bobby said quietly, watching the fast actions of the paramedics.

They put him on a machine to mirror his vitals. They were weak. _So damn weak._ One of the paramedics was talking to Dean, but he didn't realize him. He didn't answer … he couldn't. He was too focused on Sam. Too focused on looking into empty big hazel-orbs and dilated pupils.

„We'll follow them.", He just heard Bobby's soft voice behind him.

And then … they shoved Sam out on the gurney. Leaving syringes, papers and other biohazard waste in the room. Including a pool of blood on the carpet. Tears running down Deans cheeks. He was shameless crying into his hands. His blood covered hands. **Sams blood.** Sams blood mixing with his tears.

How didn't he recognize? How didn't he see that this wasn't him? How could he had let this happen? Why didn't Sam do anything against it? Why didn't he go away? Just leave him? … Dean knew it wouldn't have mattered. He'd found him. Dean would've found him, the object would've made him find him, killing him … His look fell on the small bloody thing that Bobby had skipped aside. It lay there, as it was some innocent piece of waste. Not worth picking up and though … it had destroyed so much in his time being.

And it would end now. He and Bobby would take care of it. As soon as Sam would be back on his feet. Maybe earlier … they would find a way to destroy it and find the one who was responsible for all this mess – all this pain that dared to rip Dean apart.

„Son?", Bobby asked, standing beside the Winchester who stared shocked at the mess before him.

He looked up at the older man and then down on the blood on his hands – Sams blood on his hands.

„Better hurry up – gotta follow them.", Bobby mumbled.

Dean just nodded and continued to stare at the dried rusty colored moisture on his hands for a moment.

„Go and get a shower, then I'll stitch you up.", Bobby's voice was at least as broken and filled with worry as Deans mind was.

The younger male caught Bobby's look. His eyes red rimmed and tear-filled. „She was a demon.", Dean whispered to himself.

Bobby closed his eyes for a moment and nodded. „We can talk about it later."

After another moment of planless staring, he let Bobby help him to his feet. Then he hurried to get cleaned up and bitched at his friend for being too slow as he sewed up the gash on his side.

* * *

As they arrived at the hospital half an hour later, Sam was already in the surgery. One of the nurses stayed with the both hunters in the middle of the corridor in front of the nurses station and explained Sams state when he arrived. That they had lost him once on their way to the hospital, but brought his heartbeat back into a barely regular rhythm. That there were evidences of a intracranial-trauma, a couple of bruises, cracked ribs, a broken leg and signs of something she didn't want to explain closer – something doctor Burton would do later.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and inched back to the wall, leaning against it. Bobby continued to ask questions Dean wasn't able to ask. Answers he didn't want to listen to. Not yet. Not now. But he knew, sooner or later he had to face it. Face Sam. Face what had happened, _what he had done._

So – he stood there, not listening, shutting the world around him out. Just he and his memories and thoughts. The things he didn't want to remember. Memories that felt like they didn't belong to him.

He felt the satisfaction of Sams cries as he took him, the sobs that made him cheer. The bliss as he heard bones crack and break. The look and fear-filled hazel-orbs looking at him, pleading him to stop. _That would haunting him for eternity._

Dean swallowed and opened his eyes as he felt a hand on his shoulder and stayed there. An old, rucked hand.

„Bobby ..."

„Not here. Not yet. - I've the bone and need some things for the ritual to destroy it. I'd like to get rid of it yesterday.". Bobby said, not knowing if Dean noticed him. _Was_ able to notice him right now.

„Yeah – go – I'll stay here … may place's here -", he whispered, understanding Bobby's urge to destroy the thing.

Bobby nodded. „You'll be OK?"

Dean nodded again. „Sure." _… as OK as he possibly could._

The older hunter took in the pale face of the younger man towards him, his guilty look, watery eyes. His bowed form. „You call me when they know somethin'? - You both are Sam and Dean Savenger. - Brothers by the way. - Should make sure that they let you to him."

Dean nodded gratefully. The lump in his throat growing. „Brothers, yeah.", he stated to show Bobby that he had listened.

* * *

So he waited … and waited. Head buried in his hands, thinking, crying, sobbing, sneezing, a coffee in his hand that wouldn't taste. Wouldn't smell like the black pure liquid it was.

 _Hours gone by._ Bobby had called three times. And Sam still wasn't out of surgery. It took two more hours until the doctor came for Dean to inform him and fill him in about Sams condition. The one moment Dean was waiting for, hoping for, fearing.

He stood up as the doctor tabbed on his shoulder and his lips curled up into a friendly smile. A smile that didn't reach his tired, exhausted eyes.

„So", Dean cleared his throat. „How's he?"

The doctors face fell but he held eye contact. „He's stable – at the moment. - Mister Savenger suffers from an intracranial trauma and lost a lot of blood. - He's in a bad condition at the moment.", The doctor sighed and rubbed over his furrowed forehead. „Look – Your brother … he might not survive this night. - He had to take pretty much. And to be honest: it's surprising that he survived the transport ..."

Dean stared at him in disbelieve. „ _No_ – no it can't be. _Don't_ say that. - No." Dean swayed. He knew he had to be strong now. Had to try and keep it together. For Sam, for himself. If he wanted to make it up to him in the future, he had to keep going, keep functioning.

„Sir?" Doc Burton laid a hand on his shoulder.

Dean swallowed, tears filling his eyes all over gain.

„Usually i don't let relatives in the ICU. - Not that short after a surgery … but in this case – Sir, if there's anything … anything you want to try and tell your brother … if you want to stay, i'll let the nurses know."

This was it? Sam – _his Sam_ was going to die? He was going to lose … _no he couldn't_. Sam was strong. Stronger than this. Stronger as anyone he knew. He'd fight this. He had to. Dean had to make it up to him. Had to make him whole again. He had promised to look after him, promised to protect him and now he was dying?

Dean nodded and followed the doctor, deep sunken in thoughts. Lost between now and tomorrow, when he could've lost the one thing – the one person – he loved, who meant everything to him. He loved Sam so much it sometimes hurt … _and now_ … he didn't want to live if Sam wouldn't.

The doctor stopped in front of a door with a glass window and turned around to face the hunter. „If you have to call someone i'd please you to do it now. - and … before you go in there … you have to know … the view … Sam's attached to a couple of machines. We had to take him on a vent since he wasn't able to breathe for himself … It might -"

Dean raised a hand to stop the doctor. He had seen people like this before, he knew that for some humans out there it was a shock to see their loved once like this. And it would be for Dean too. But he didn't want to waste time. He could imagine what he'd see in there … what he'd find in there … „I know. - Just. - I'll make a phone call and then .. then ..." He took a deep breath, his heart racing.

„It's allright. Just take your time.", The doctor took Deans features in and added: „if you need something – just call for a nurse."

Dean nodded eagerly. „Yeah." He took a deep breath as doctor Burton disappeared around the corner. Dean refused to take a look thru the window … didn't want to see what he had caused.

The next thing he knew was that he was holding a phone to his ear and that he was talking to Bobby, telling him what the doctor had told him. And Bobby said he'd come. _Just like that_ … nothing more and nothing less.

The hunter put the phone back in the pocket of his leather-jacked and laid a hand on the door handle. Taking another deep breath, he pushed it down and stepped in. This time he looked up, his gaze glued to the bed in the middle of the dim lightened room. He stopped and took the figure on the bed in. Trying to shove the remaining anger and rage aside that'd hopefully fade within the next couple of hours.

Sam was so pale – purple bruises on his face, jaw and forehead. A bruised and swollen eye and he could imagine the rest of his body. He didn't have to see it – _he knew it._ Because he had done this to him. His left leg was casted and rested on a pillow. Dean fought back tears and sniffed before he went slowly towards the bed, following the tube of the vent from Sams mouth to the machine to the monitors he was attached to with his gaze. He could tell that nothing on the monitors looked good. None of the mirrored vitals were normal.

Deans thigh brushed over the side of the bed and the mattress as he stood in front of it and he lifted his hand to lay it on Sams … but stopped the move, thinking if Sam would like to have him here right now, if he had the right to be here … but he did it. He laid his hand on Sams. Dean had to be here, this was his place, this was his home. Wherever Sam was … he was all Dean needed.

He couldn't fight back the tears anymore. He was going to lose him. _Oh god_ … he couldn't. Couldn't do THIS. He couldn't watch him die. It hurt so much it tore him apart. There was nothing he could do, nothing to save him. He could do nothing but watch and wait. Waiting and watching him die … _or survive …_

„ _Sammy_?", Deans voice was soaked in desperation and fear, wet from tears and hoarseness. „Can you … you have to survive this. OK? I've to make it up to you, _Sunshine_. - You hear me? I … i can't survive this knowing that you're damned to die. I can't. I -" Deans voice broke. „Please. - I'll do everything. EVERYTHING." He sobbed, wiping away the tears. „If you want me to leave … i'll understand. - I won't hold you back. - Just … just live, Sammy. Just survive. I just want you to survive ..." He blinked and squeezed Sams hand again. Waiting … hoping … praying … but no one heard his prayers .. not even Castiel.

He held Sams hand and guided it to his cheek, leaning into the younger mans soft palm, closing his eyes as the cold softness of Sams skin soaked into him. And he held it there for a long time. Warming the younger mans skin with his, trying to feel him again.

A weak movement against his cheek. Another one and Sams fingers pressed weakly against him, fingers moving and a single move of his thumb over Deans cheekbone caught a single tear and let the hunter look up.

His gaze got caught by tired small , sparkling and glistening.

„ _Sam_?", he asked softly.

The young male blinked, his fingers jerked.

„You hear me?"

Sam blinked again – slowly.

Dean buried his cheek deeper into the soft palm on his face and Sams fingers shifted – just a little bit, hard to notice … but it was there.

„I – I ..." Dean stuttered and swallowed a sob.

Sam started to struggle, his chest heaved, fighting the vent, the tube down his throat. Fighting the oxygen that got forced into his lungs as a silent tear ran over his cheek. He wanted to talk, to say something, but he couldn't.

„No Sammy. Don't. It's OK. - Don't fight it. - Please don't."

The younger male blinked, his lids seemed heavier, his eyes pleading, fighting to stay. Staying with Dean, here and now.

„I won't go, Sam. I'm staying here if you want me to."  
Sam blinked, his eyes on half-mast now. His fingers shifting in Deans hand, breaking free of the gentle grip, gliding down his jaw and neck, pulling further downwards until he felt the small bulge under Deans shirt, tangling his fingers around it with the little strength he had left.

„You want me to stay?" Dean asked a little confused and Sam blinked once more.

His grip loosened moments later and his eyes closed. Taken by darkness, not noticing Deans silent cries of grief, sobbing, holding on his limp hand.

* * *

Soon after the door opened and Bobby stepped in hesitantly. He moved to the bed beside Dean, who sat in a chair now. The older hunter laid his hand on the mans shoulder, his gaze touching the monitors and the blood transfusion before it landed on the young man on the bed.

„How's he holding up?", he asked low, since the room was dominated by the steady sounds of the machines around them.

Dean shuddered under the gentle touch, squeezing Sams hand. „Bobby's here." Deans voice shivered on the verge of exhaustion. He looked up at the older hunter. Red rimmed wet eyes catching his gaze as he shook his head meaningfully. „He wasn't even mad, Bobby."

Bobby looked down and smiled sadly. „He's a fighter, Son. - He's going to make it thru the night." He sighed. „Sam won't give up that easy. You'll see – he's going to fight."

Deans look went back to Sam, then to the monitors as another pair of tears dried on his cheeks.

* * *

_Hours went by._ Dean didn't dare to leave him. Didn't dare to close his eyes. Didn't dare to lose physical contact to _his loves_ body. He anchored him, wanted to show him his way back, keeping him here. Showing him that he was there, with him. _For him._

The morning was dawning already as Bobby emerged with 2 hot cups of steaming coffee from the nurses station. One for himself, and one for Dean who was still holding Sams hand, rubbing gentle circles over his skin.

Another hour went by until the doctor Burton and a nurse entered. Taking Sams vitals, checking on the bandages … All the doctor had for Dean was a sorrow filled look and reassuring words that it was a good sign that Sam had made it thru the night.

* * *

Dean sat in the chair. As close as possible to the bed where Sam rested. His head and forearms laid on the bed, curled around the younger mans arm while he was fast asleep. Sleep had overwhelmed him as exhaustion and tiredness were taking their tall on the hunter. He had fought it as long as possible, though the last twenty-four hours didn't went over without a price on him.

It was then, when he felt motion under him. Fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin of his wrist, trying to unwind from the heavy weight on them. Dean blinked his eyes open, not knowing what had woken him. It took the hunter a couple of moments to realize that it was Sams hand and fingers that moved slightly, caressing the areas of his skin he had access to.

Dean raised his head and looked up at the man whose arm he had captured, noticing open searching eyes. With one strike he was high awake and alert, though his mind didn't find a way to decide what to do. What to say.

So he raised from the chair and bowed over the bed to catch Sams gaze, tangling his fingers in the younger man ones. „Hey Sunshine." Dean smiled released, trying to hold down the emotions that dared to overwhelm him.

Sam caught his look and took dark green orbs in, filled with warmth, love … and regret – _sorrow_? His mind was still a mess of confusion and pure distress. Sam wasn't able to find a single useful memory or thought. He just felt _him_. _Felt Dean. Saw Dean_. Knew that he was there _with him_. And something … something like fear overcame him for a moment as he suddenly heard _his_ voice again. Soothing and gentle.

„Everything's gonna be OK, _Sammy_. - I swear. - I … i am _so sorry."_ , he whispered, as he bowed down to the younger mans ear. „I remember everything. - Everything. I wish … i wish nothin' of this would've ever happened … you gotta believe me, Sam. - I would've ended myself rather than let this anyone doing to you." His lips ghosted over Sams jaw as he spoke, drawing a warm exhale over his skin.

Sam blinked, trying to understand what this all meant. - What had turned Dean into the sobbing mess that he was now … he tried to remember, to catch an evidence in his mind for what had happened, but he was tired. So tired. And he couldn't stop it.

Dean withdrew to look into a pair of confused hazel-eyes. He saw it all in Sams eyes. The younger man didn't remember. _At least not right now_ … the confusion, the questioning look, the not understanding what was going on. And Dean didn't know what was worse. That Sam didn't seem to remember, or the confusion and fear about what was going on.

Sam squeezed Deans hand weakly, his eyes bright and filled with love towards the older hunter. He wanted to pull him down again, wanted to be close to him, as he felt the darkness coming back. _Darker,_ **deeper** … an endless cold valley with monsters that lunged for him, trying to bury their claws into his flesh.

Dean heard the noises of the monitors slowing down as Sams eyes fluttered shut, before they went stir crazy. Loud alarming signals and the steady endless long beep from the ECG as the spikes vanished and a flatline took their place, echoing thru the room and into the corridor.

In an instant there were nurses and doctors. A defibrillator got shoved into the room, someone pushed him back, away from the bed and somehow Dean ended up in the corner of the room and watched them … all of them trying desperately saving a humans life. They shouted, called for medications over the alarming signals of the machines.

And Dean just stood there. Unable to move, unable to say something,. Unable to think. He didn't realize that he had caught his breath ever since the alarm had started … and he wasn't sure if he wanted to breath ever again if they weren't able to bring Sam back ….

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Chapter 5 ~ Heartbeat **

They had sent him home – _just like that._

Before he had left, doctor Burton had given Sams dogtag to him, wich they had removed before the surgery. He had said he didn't want it to get lost. And Dean had taken it. _Just like that._

Now he sat there on one of the single beds in the small motel room, one block away from the hospital. He had showered and shaved and was dressed in fresh clothes, holding the dogtag in his hand. He took the shiny piece of steel in and rubbed with his thump over the engraved surface. There were not tears left to shed. No words left to say …

The doctor had literally shoved him out of Sams room and from the ICU and had told him that he wouldn't want to see him before tomorrow morning again. That he should get something to eat and some sleep and most of all REST.

And Dean had given in. He was too exhausted to fight and after … after all that had happened … after all it was on him that Sam was in this condition, that he could die …

The door to the motel-room opened slowly and Bobby stepped in. Two duffel-bags over his left shoulder and a paper-bag in his hands.

Soon it smelled like cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings and coffee in the small room, as Bobby had spread the meal out on the small table in the middle of the room. The two duffel bags laid on the bed furthest from the room. The bed that was supposed to be _Sams_.

„She was a demon, Bobby – There has never been a ghost." Dean began silently.

Bobby froze as he stood with his back towards the young hunter. „I know Son."

„I didn't remember until it was too late. And then … then i didn't care anymore.", Dean continued low, beating himself up for every single word that left his mouth. For every memory those memories brought back.

Bobby sighed and sat down on the chair, bracing himself to listen.

„I knew that something wasn't right, but i just didn't care. I _liked_ it Bobby. I _enjoyed_ it. Everything of it. - I could've stopped it if i would've wanted to, ya know?" He looked up, searching Bobby's blank face for any sign of motion. For any sign that he hated him for what he had done. But the older man kept his poker face on and just looked at him. „I – what am i supposed to do? What if … what if Sam dies? What if I'm gonna lose him? … What if he … he doesn't want me around anymore after ..."

„Son, listen. I think Sam's not mad at you. - He knows that it wasn't you." Bobby cut him off and unpacked the french fries, obviously trying to hold it together by himself. After all it had been him who had sent the boys on this case. After all it had been him, who hadn't done his research more intense as usual. Actually it was on him – all of it. But he had thought that his boys were okay with it, that they'd figure out everything they had to know about it. - And who the hell would've thought that it wasn't a ghost-possession? That there was the possibility that it could've been something odd like a black bone? „Now get ya ass up and eat and sleep. You've to be rested and ready for tomorrow."

„I can't, Bobby." Dean swallowed down a sob. „What if the hospital calls … I can't sleep."

Bobby laid a small white pill on the table. „Sure you can't – but you will. - I'll have an eye on ya phone too."

Deans gaze followed the movement and got caught by the pill on the table. Then he looked at Bobby, who seemed tired and exhausted by himself.

„What about the ritual?", Dean asked after a depressing silence.

The older hunter sighed. „Didn't work, Son."

The younger male ran his finger thru his short hair and shook his head as he laid a hand on the stitched up gash on the side of his ribcage. „They kicked me out. _Just like this_ … how can they?"

„Because you look like shit, Dean. - have you seen yourself in the mirror yet? You're gonna pass out over there. You're gonna end up on a gurney yourself. - You need something to eat and sleep, boy." Bobby smiled exhausted. „And you know that, so don't give me crap for mentioning it."

Dean nodded understanding. He was right. _Damn right._ If anything would happen to Sam Bobby would wake him up … „You're right old man. … eat and sleep and tomorrow we're going back"

„Who do you call old, idjit?"

Dean chuckled. „Who do you call an idjit, grumpy bear?" Then he went to the table and sat towards his old friend. Both ate in silence. Dean took the pill and fell asleep short after on the bed that was supposed to be Sams, tangled in sheets and a blanket for the rest of the night.

* * *

The next morning came slow and relentless. Deans sleep seemed peacefully, but the dreams in whom he was caught weren't. They were haunted by Sam. Better said, Dean had haunted Sam. He tortured him, heard him scream and beg, giant green hazel-eyes pleading him to end it. _Stop it._ But he didn't. He had done horrible things to him. Said terrible things to him and he had enjoyed it. he couldn't take it. It had been too vivid, too real … and it hurt. _Hurt as hell._ He had done things he thought he'd never be capable of.

The younger hunter didn't wait for Bobby – who laid on the bed that was supposed to be Deans. He bought breakfast, got back to their room and went back out again, headed towards the hospital.

Sam had fallen into a coma during the night, but no one had called him. Not even doctor Burton. He should've been there. Even if he wasn't able to stop it … but he should've been with Sam. Burton had mentioned that Sam had woken up before he drifted off … that he had asked for him, _for Dean._

And Dean hadn't been there. Dean should've fought for it to stay, stay where he belonged to, where he had supposed to be.

So Dean sat there, holding Sams hand, caressing the sensitive skin on the inner side of his forearms. Sam had loved this ever since … it had made him relaxed and nearly purring. The hunter was able to hear the small happy noises and sounds deep down from Sams throat when he had done this. Just … this time there were no noises, no sounds. Sam didn't even move a little bit like he was supposed to when he brushed up and down with his fingertips along the blue line that pumped the blood thru his system.

They had put Sam on a feeding tube this morning, short before Dean had come back. He didn't talk … just sat there, watching Sams chest and the steady rhythm of the rise and fall, listening to the regular beeping of the ECG.

The hunter didn't knew what he was supposed to say, nor to do. Sam was in a coma and too far away to reach him. Pleading him … trying to get him back from wherever he was right now. So he remained silent.

Though he didn't leave Sam except to eat, pee or sleep.

* * *

Two days later he came with a book in his hands, kissed Sams forehead and whispered a gentle „Good morning, Sunshine.", in his ear, before he took his place in the chair beside the bed. Dean rubbed over his furrowed forehead and sighed as he glanced at the cover of the book for a while.

 _The Wind in the Willows – by Kenneth Grahame_ ….

Sam had started to read it before they went on the ghost-possession-hunt and continued after Deans fever was gone … that's when it all had started. When his feelings and emotions weren't right anymore. When he started to feel the **rage** and **hate**. The **frustration** and **disgust**. That was when he started to tease Sam about reading a book that had been written for children. _„What are you? Eight?"_ He could hear it in his mind like it had been yesterday. And he literally felt the cold shiver running down Sams spine, the hurt look as Sam buried his nose deeper into the book. _„Better you would've done a better research about the ghost-possession instead of reading that crap, kiddo."_ He knew his words would hurt him … he knew what he had to say to him to **make it hurt.** Because he knew how the younger male was ticking, that he loved books, all kind of books. Damn, there were more books in the cabin since Sam was with him, as Dean had ever had in his hands before. And he took it away from him. _Just like that._ He ripped the book out of Sams hands and tore it apart, threw it into the fireplace and said, that he'd do this to all of them. _ALL OF HIS BOOKS_ and that he was useless like this. That he did useless stuff. - That he should pick up some practical reading-stuff from Bobby and forget about that pathetic stuff.

Dean swallowed a big lump down and closed his eyes for a second, shoving the memories away and opened the book. He had bought the most beautiful edition he was able to find. Though Sam couldn't see it right now, but as soon as he was back on his feet he would. And Dean was sure he'd love it.

„ _The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing. It was small wonder, then ..."_ Dean started to read; the book in his lab with one hand holding it open and the other one resting on Sams …

He read for him every day a couple of hours until his eyes burnt and his head hurt … But it was for Sam. _Only Sam._

He knew all the nurses and doctors on the ICU. Most of them with their first names and their shift-plans. Not because he was hyper interested in the staff. It was because of _Sam_. No one he didn't know would be allowed to get into the room, nor stay alone with him. Not even for a second. After a while Dean made most of the care by himself. He washed and cleaned Sam up, dressed him in fresh hospital shirts … made all the things except the medical stuff, was talking to him, explaining what he did. That he wanted him back, that he was sorry … that he never had wanted this. And that he'd make it up to him one day …

Sams vitals improved after a couple of days, so they took him off of the vent as it looked like that he was able to breathe on his own.

Dean carried on with _the wind in the willows_ …... „... _"Look, baby! There goes the great Mr. Toad! And that's the gallant Water Rat, a terrible fighter, walking along o' him! And yonder comes the famous Mr. Mole, of whom you so often have heard your father tell!" But when their infants were fractious and quite beyond control, they would quiet them by telling how, if they didn't hush them and not fret them, the terrible grey Badger would up and get them. This was a base libel on Badger, who, though he cared little about Society, was rather fond of children; but it never failed to have its full effect. - The End."_ Dean sighed and smiled sadly … still caught with his thoughts in the story … and he felt sorry somehow. Sorry that it was over and thought, if he should start it again … or if he should look for something else to read … something Sam might have liked ….

„Beautiful.", he heard a weak husky voice. **A weak, husky and familiar voice.**

He looked up and saw two half-open green hazel-eyes whose gaze were glued to him and a small happy smile that shined and seemed to brighten the dim surroundings.

„Sammy?", he asked in disbelieve, happy and embarrassed at the same time. Happy, damn cheerful that Sam was awake … and embarrassed because he had caught him in reading to someone.

Sam blinked at him. „I liked it." His voice sounded raw and weak …

Deans lips curled up and a bright smile spread across his face. He literally jumped out of his chair and was over Sam in an instant, laying a hand on his jaw and rubbing his thumb over Sams pale cheekbone. Tears of joy ran over the older male's cheeks and he sobbed and smiled and didn't know what he'd say fist. What he should do …

„Oh god, Sunshine.", he murmured. „I missed you. - Damn it, i thought I'm gonna lose you. I thought i ..."

„'m here.", the younger male exhaled. „'m not going anywhere."

Dean placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and took a deep inhale of Sams scent. - He was awake – Sam came back, _came back to him._

„I've to call the doctor. - have to let him know ...", Dean mumbled happily. „I'm right back."

„Push the damn call button.", a grumpy voice behind them echoed into the room.

„Bobby?", Sam asked, his eyes wide in surprise.

The old man entered and walked slowly towards the bed. „Hey there, kiddo.", he greeted with a smile. „See you beat the devil again?"

Sam smiled bewildered. „You beat the devil. - I played the bait." He chuckled and then … all of a sudden his smile fell, his hazel-orbs went sad and he touched his temple as he was in thoughts. It nearly looked as he saw something the others didn't see. As he was somewhere just not here.

„Sam?", Dean asked, fear swinging in his voice.

He looked up. First at Bobby then at Dean. His face wrecked by something like hurt? Sadness? „Yeah … I-", he said silently, nearly inhearlabe. „... I just …" He looked back at Bobby. „Thank you … i mean … you saved us." His gaze went to Dean, fixing deep emerald-green eyes.

„Something wrong?", Dean asked concerned and shot a gaze over his shoulder at the old man.

„No … I … i don't know. - I ..." He couldn't name it. But he knew what it was about. Memories of what had happened started to crawl back into his mind. The memories he had lost at the point he had talked to Bobby on the phone.

He wasn't mad at Dean. How could he even be? Sam knew that it was because of the thing … though … he felt so embarrassed … so filthy … so not himself.

„I'll go and get the doc.", Bobby stated, deep creases of concern all over his face.

Dean just nodded and laid a hand on Sams cheek. „What is it?", he asked and Sam moved away from his touch, turning his head to the other side and stared out of the window. „Talk to me, Sunshine … what is it?"

Sam swallowed as he took a deep inhale. „Nothin'. - I don't know … i just – maybe i need some alone-time?"

That was it, wasn't it? The moment Dean had expected to come. The moment Sam realized – remembered what he had done to him … what he had said to him. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to go away … he wanted to stay with Sam, make it all up. Showing him that he could trust him, now that he was himself again.

„Yeah … of course.", Dean muttered hesitantly. „Alonetime." … This was probably the first time since they lived together that Sam demanded something like this … _and it hurt._ \- It hurt that he didn't want him around right now. - Now where Dean thought he'd need someone the most. And usually - would it been anyone else who had hurt him - Dean would've been the one he would've wanted close to him. But not anymore. Not this time. Maybe not ever again.

Dean left as doctor Burton, Bobby and a nurse entered. All three of them looked at the man who seemed like to flee from the room in confusion. Bobby's look flew to the bed, where Sam laid, staring out of the window to his left. He instantly sensed that there must've happened something … or maybe nothing happened and that was it. The _breaking point_ maybe.

The old man stood beside the bed while the doctor was talking to Sam and the nurse took her notes on a board.

„How are you feeling, Mister Savenger?", the doctor asked, friendly smiling like always.

„Good.", Sam answered and made eye contact with the medicine man for a couple of seconds before he continued to stare outside.

„Pain on a scale from zero to ten?", he continued.

„Six.", Sam answered.

Bobby watched the doctor, who watched the young male closely, probably trying to figure out if his behaviour was something medical, or just a mood. It was just like the older hunter was able to read the thoughts on doctor Burton's face.

„Headache?", the doctor asked.

„A little bit.", Sam answered and sighed, then he looked up to meet the dark brown eyes of the man above him. „Could we do this later, please?"

The medicine man looked surprised and shared a look with Bobby and then with the nurse beside him. „No, we can't, i am sorry. - So just lets continue and it'll be over in less than ten minutes."

Sam nodded and stared out of the window again.

„Do you know your name?"

„Sam."

„Date of birth?"

„May the second."

„What are your parents names?"

„My parents are dead, so what does it matter?"

The doctor cocked both of his eyebrows. „OK … - well … a few last questions and we're done, Sam."

After the doctor was done with him, the nurse took his vitals and scribbled them on the board, while doc Burton showed Bobby with a look that they had to talk outside the room.

The hunter followed him in front of the door, where a deep frustrated sigh left the medicine mans throat. „First: Sam's improving – that's good. It's amazing that he woke up and that he can talk and that he seems to remember the most of his life. - There might be a couple lapses of memory, but that's normal after a head injury like his." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. „Second: Since i don't know Sam closer i can't tell you about his mental condition, but i honestly suggest to get professional help for him. There are plenty of old scars all over his body … obvious evidences that he got abused before. Besides this … and the fact that he got violated … i honestly think that he should attempt professional help." He paused again. „Third: The police was here and asked for a chance to question the victim this morning. - Me for my part … i'd attend and suggest to wait with the questions they have. - I'll tell them that he'll need some more rest before they can come."

Bobby sighed and nodded gratefully. „Yeah … think so too." Then he shot a glance into the room and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. „You said … he … got violated? … Is it … can you tell who it was? I mean ..." He sighed again. Maybe it was a good thing that Dean wasn't here right now …

The doctor nodded. „Yes, as soon as the police has a sample to compare they will."

The hunter blew out a pensive breath thru his nose. „Good." wherever unsure if he should feel released now or not. - They wouldn't take a DNA-sample from Dean anyways, so at least that problem had hopefully solved itself.

The doctor looked around. „I'd like to talk to his brother … there are some things he has to know. - He's the one who's the closest i guess?", and nodded towards the bed inside the room.

Bobby nodded. „Yeah he is. - The both of them are pretty close. - I'll just let him know when he's back - if that's right?"

„Sure." The medicine man smiled again, white teeth appearing behind his lips.

The both of them shook hands and parted as the doctor – greatfully – got called to an emergency.

Bobby waited until the doctor was out of sight and the nurse had left the room before he entered again, thinking if it was a good idea to go in there … but he would have done it anyway, so who cared? The old man sat down on the chair that was supposed to be Deans place and started to stare holes in Sam, who still stared holes thru the window.

Sam flinched unbridled as the chair squeaked. The younger man felt the fear return. The fear he haven't felt for a long time. He didn't want it, he didn't want to feel that way ever again … but the things that had happened to him while Dean was possessed … it was like he was back in the basement again. It felt like he was loosing everything, loosing control over himself. The control that had been taken away from him by the one who had given it to him. It made him feel sick to think about the things he was able to remember. Though he knew it wasn't really Dean … but he couldn't change it. - That Dean saw him like this. Saw him like the dirty filthy thing he was.

„You know it wasn't Dean.", Bobby broke the silence after a long while.

Sams chest rose and fell with a deep hurtful inhale. „Yeah, i know."

Again silence.

„I just wanna be alone Bobby. Just – just for a little while. - I mean … i appreciate everything you both did for me. Honestly. And i'm not mad or something … i promise." His raw voice broke on the verge of tears. Then he faced the hunter with a pleading look. „Please just give me an hour or two."

Bobby nodded, his disapproval drawn all over the creased face.

„Would you do me a favor and check on Dean?", Sam asked before Bobby could say something. „Would you?"

The old man nodded and sighed before he shook his head, obviously hesitating to leave the young man on his own.

„I'll be OK. - Honestly. - tell Dean that I'm not mad. I just need to be alone … he left before … i just can't Bobby. Not right now ..."

„I understand, Son. - I'm sure Dean will do too." He put on a sad smile. Bobby had at least hoped that Sam would've let him stay.

The young man guided a hand to his neck, his fingers brushed over the place where his dogtag used to be. Then he closed his eyes. _He must have lost it …_

* * *

Short after Bobby had left he drifted off to sleep and woke up a couple of hours later to a dim illuminated room and _loneliness_.

A nurse stood beside him, scrawling something on the board in her hands and smiled at him. „Hey", she said quietly. „Look who's awake." She smiled „I'm Ana and will take care of you tonight."

Sam nodded sleepy.

„You're in pain?", she asked, taking him in closely.

Yes. But Sam shook his head. No. He didn't want to fall asleep again … in case … _if Dean would come back._ „Have i had visitors?"

She nodded. „Yeah, your uncle - the grumpy old man was here - but left as he saw that you're asleep. He said he'll come tomorrow again in case you'd ask for him."

Sam nodded again, this time in disappointment. „And my … what about Dean?"

She seemed to wait.

„Your Brother?", she looked concerned, searching in sad hazel-eyes for something to figure what she should answer. „I'm sorry. He wasn't here."

Sam nodded and lowered his gaze. Deep sadness filled him up. He hadn't wanted to shove Dean away. He just couldn't look at him back there … If he could have, he would've run away … or at least fled into the bathroom. If it wouldn't be that complicated – at least in his mind.

Sam had a restless night and the occasional sleep was haunted by nightmares … not that he wasn't used to it … but .. these were different. It was Dean. Always Dean, and he told himself that it was stupid. That _his Dean_ would've never done this. Though the dreams came back every time he dozed off. So he laid awake most of the night. And the pain helped. It helped to keep his mind conscious. To keep him awake and halfway alert. At least he thought so.

At the end of the night, the first sunbeams fled the room and he felt worse than before. The walls seemed to move closer and the room shrunk with every minute that went by. The air seemed to get less with every breath he took. He had to get out of there, no matter how. His gaze flew over his body, to the cast on his right leg and to the door that stood agape.

* * *

Dean sighed as he turned up the hot water in the shower, letting it run over his cool skin and face. He had driven around in the Impala. Planless. Thinking. Not knowing how the both of them would end up. He didn't want anything more than running away. But i he couldn't leave Sam behind – _his Sam._ He was there in the hospital, alone, confused … hurting.

His body started to relax slowly as the hot liquid left red marks on his flesh. But Dean didn't care. Not a little bit. He was beating himself up about what had happened ever since he had seen _his Sam_ laying in a pool of blood on the dusty carpet. The sight of the small nest of sheets and blankets in the corner of the motel-room where he had cuffed him to a heating tube, had been burnt into his memory.

But honestly … what had he thought how Sam would react to him? Had he thought that Sam would wake up and everything was okay again? That either of them would just forget about the past four weeks?

Maybe it had been a good thing that Sam had sent him away yesterday. It gave them both time. Time to think … time to recover for sam … or whatever. He had done it for Sam. If it had been about him, Dean wouldn't have left the hospital. Not ever. Dean would've stayed there with Sam, clinging to him, trying to make him feel better in every possible way. He would have rather kissed Sam until they both were about to pass out because of the lack of oxygen.

Sam had sent him away, wanted some alone time and he had never wanted this before. He had never asked for something from Dean before, so he gave it to the younger man. He had the right to be alone if he wished.

And now … now Dean couldn't wait to get back to the hospital, into Sams room, _to him_. And even if it was just to be near him. Because he belonged there. **Belonged to his Sam.**

So did he. He was showered and dressed in less than fifteen minutes. As he emerged from the bathroom Bobby was already gone. Probably to pick up breakfast or something. But Dean wouldn't be there anymore to get one. He had to get to Sam.

Dean stuffed the purse from the bedside table into the back-pocket of his jeans and left the motel room - unlocked - for the older man. As his gaze fell on his beloved baby and the old hunter who stood beside it - hands in his pockets to keep them warm - he couldn't have been more surprised.

„What the hell took you so long? - I'm freezing to death out here.", Bobby yelled towards him and smiled cheeky.

* * *

Dean braced himself before he pushed the door handle down and stepped into the small room in the ICU. As he stood there and his gaze flew towards the bed, he took a deep inhale and his eyes widened as he saw a hunched over Sam sitting on the edge of the bed. Both legs tangling from it, his torso swaying ready to tilt forward every moment. Blood dripped from the young mans nose and landing on the dark grey floor. He must have ripped the feeding tube out, as Dean acknowledged.

In three short strides he was in front of him, catching him before he could manage to fall over and hit the floor.

„Sammy." The hunters heart skipped and started to race. „What the hell are you doing?"

Sam slung his arms around him, clinging to him as it was for dear life. His fingers clenching into the thick leather of Deans jacket in his fists. He gripped it so tight that his knuckles turned white as he tugged the hunter closer. The monitor's beeping that showed Sams heartbeat sped up further and soon it got rediculous.

„It's OK, Sunshine. I'm here … i'm here." he whispered gently. The older male laid a hand on Sams bare back and one on his head, burying his fingers in the thick hair. He rested his chin on the younger mans head and closed his eyes. He had thought Sam'd be okay without him. Would be glad that he'd give him more time alone as he had demanded. That he probably didn't want to see him ever again. So he was overwhelmed about Sams actions for a moment, before he forced himself to calm down.

„I'm sorry.", the younger man muttered.

„Hey, i said it's okay. - I'm the one who's supposed to be sorry, Sammy." Dean whispered gently. He tangled his fingers in Sams hair, caressing the skin beneath it. „I'm so sorry. - I know i hurt you. I just wish i would've stopped it. I knew something was wrong with me. I knew it and i didn't stop it," Dean tugged him gently closer, not wanting to hurt his cracked ribs anymore. Not wanting to put pressure on the purple bruises beneath the thin fabric of the hospitals shirt.

„You're cold, Sam.", he whispered and placed a gentle kiss on Sams head.

„I don't mind." Sam pressed his body closer to Deans, ignoring the pain that it caused.

„But i do." Dean sighed and brushed over Sams jaw, leading it up to take in a pair of distressed hazel-eyes. „You'll catch a cold, _Sunshine_. - I don't want you to get sick. I wouldn't do any good and it'll delay the day I'm allowed to take you home with me." Dean wanted to inch back a little, but Sam held him in place. „No. Please, stay."

It felt so damn good to feel Sam that close again. _Close and breathing – living_. The way they were supposed to be. To feel the tall body next to his, to smell him. On the other side … there lingered this feeling that he didn't deserve this. That Sam should be mad at him, push him away instead of holding him close. He had hurt him … hurt him in every single way he could imagine.

„I'm not going to leave. As long as you want me to I'll stay. _Promise_. - Just get back into bed and rest or i'll make you.", he tried to sound joking … but failed miserably at the end. He sounded hard and demanding, the words he had spoken came out more as an order than the wish that it was.

Sam went rigid in his arms. His breath shuddered and he started to shiver as he withdrew carefully from the hunter. „Yes. You're right."

Dean swallowed and bit his lower lip. He didn't want to make him do anything. He had lost the right to make Sam do something. Not even if it was meant as a joke.

Sam let himself guide back on the bed and Dean helped him with the casted leg back on the pillow. Then he sat on the edge of the mattress and laid a hand on the younger males chest. „I'm sorry. - I won't make you do anything. - I just … i'm worried, that's all.", Dean caught Sams gaze and smiled sadly. „And now breathe with me, Sunshine, will ya?" He rubbed over Sams chest. „Nice and slow, like me. - Nice and slow." Dean showed him and guided him thru it. „In and out." Finally he smiled satisfied as the ECG had calmed down again and Sams breathing adjusted slowly. „The doc said they're gonna move you into a regular room today And they'd bring you some Jell-O." He cocked both eyebrows encouraging.

Sam sighed and smiled a little bit. „I'd like to get out of here, Dean."

The older male chuckled. „You're awake since what? - not even twenty-four hours and you already wanna go home?"

„I'm gettin' stir crazy in here."

„Sammy – you can barely sit up on your own. Let alone keep sitting for a couple of minutes. You haven't eaten anything solid in a week … - You're in no shape for a nearly thirteen hours drive homewards." Dean explained concerned.

„Dean. - They must've seen my scars … and _they know_ … their looks. Thy know what happened. The looks they're giving me … and what am i supposed to tell the police?", Sam asked worried. „What if … i don't know what to tell them."

„You don't have to tell them anything, Sunshine. - I'll figure something out." Dean reassured with a calm smile. „Don't you worry about the cops now." He rubbed with his thumb over the thin fabric covering Sams chest. „Dude, you should've seen the looks of the nurses … a couple of them would surely like to take you home with them." His gaze flew down his body and rested for a few moments on Sams private parts. „They liked the few pretty much, i can tell."

Sam grinned shyly. „Dean." He blushed.

„It's true."

„Stop it."

„I can't"

„I mean it."

Deans smile faded as Sam made a pained grimace as he tried to take a deeper breath. „Are you hurting?"

Sam looked up. „Yeah – it's not that bad."

„I'll call for the nurse."

„No – i don't want to – the stuff makes me sleepy … and … i don't wanna sleep right now." Sam looked aside and sighed.

„Yeah well – i don't care if you want or not. You're gonna need sleep and rest until you're better.", Dean tabbed slightly on his chest. „No buts.", he stopped the young man as he wanted to say something. „I'll stay here. - Not going anywhere."

Sam sighed again and looked up at the older hunter, catching his few. How had he missed those deep green emerald-eyes. Filled with love and the emotional warmth radiating from them.

* * *

Sam had been moved to another station, another room after they had made a row of tests including CT-scans, MRIs and other things. The room was as small as the last one, just without all the machines and he looked a little bit brighter though. Sam wasn't happy to stay here, but the doctors and Dean were probably right to keep him in there for another week. Just to be sure he wouldn't develop any kind of infection like pneumonia from his broken and cracked ribs.

Dean stayed with him during the day, read for him, made him taking deep breaths and little walks, or they watched TV together. A pile of pillows stuffed behind their backs on the bed, where Dean had an arm around the taller man and Sam leaned into his chest, dozing or sleeping. Other than that they didn't talk a lot. At least Sam didn't. He always seemed somewhere else, deep in thoughts … just like the time when Dean had taken him home with him over half a year ago. The hunter cared for him like he always did … though he held himself back when it was about physical closeness. He didn't know if Sam wanted it or not. And he for himself thought he should give him time. He thought, when he was ready for any kind of closeness – even if it was just about the kissing - he'd come to him. But Sam hadn't. Not yet. And Dean hoped this would change soon … or he'd go stir crazy about it.

The older male spent the nights in the motel, mostly thinking much less sleeping. He and Bobby tried to find a ritual or a way to destroy the bone for good, but nothing would work. Even Castiel didn't seem to know how to get rid of the hell-bound thing.

And Dean couldn't deny that it felt like the thing was calling for him. After all he hadn't ended what the thing tried to make him do. So he kept his fingers off of it and just Bobby knew where it was. As long as the thing wasn't gone, it wouldn't stop. Wouldn't stop to bother Dean in every possible way.

* * *

The young mans eyes snapped open, staring into the spare illuminated room, as the door slid back into its lock and he heard silent footfalls on the linoleum. He could feel it, _sense it_ … it was as clear as day after all. Though he was a little bit surprised that it came here. He was still wondering how he didn't recognize it on the graveyard. _How he could've missed a DEMON._

In a split second – he had not even ended his thoughts – he felt something heavy on his stomach and he got pressed into the mattress below him. Sam looked up and a pair of pitch black eyes lurked at him, sparkling in temptation.

„Bitch", he hissed as the demonic nurse adjusted herself on him to kneel more comfortable on the bed. She sat back and took Sam in.

He took her in, assessing his options at this point, as his breathing improved.

„Awww, that's not nice.", she countered and laid her hand on his jaw to fix it.

Sam gathered all the strength inside him, trying to push and feed whatever made him able to send demons back where they belonged to … but he failed. There was nothing more than a small spark of fire to inflame. And the power did never come.

„No mojo, hu?", she hissed triumphing and pinned him into the mattress as he tried to physically escape. „So that's the hunters pet. - How cute." She chuckled sweetly. „He put you thru hell and you're gonna forgive him? HOW nice of YOU."

„Back off." Sam snarled and fixed her with darkened eyes.

„Nahhh, - Don't think so. Since i can't have the Winchester's i'll just take yours." She smiled satisfied. „I'd need one of you both. - But as i see …", she paused and laid one of her hands on Sams forehead. „There ain't so much anger in you as it is in him, kid. - Guess we've to improvise a little bit hu?" She closed her eyes for a brief second before the blackness stared at him again. „There's something with what we can work, honey. - I see … we don't own a lot of self-esteem, do we?" She grinned broadly.

„What? What do you want?", Sams eyes widened, as the demon pulled a small coin out of her uniform.

„Your soul, boy. Your soul in hell. - Or the Winchesters soul in hell. - Doesn't matter. It's such a thing with you two … it's really nasty.", the demon explained and gritted her teeth.

Sam swallowed. Now would've been a good moment for Bobby and Dean to just return with the damn coffee from the cafeteria downstairs.

„Never.", Sam clenched his jaw.

„Oh, honey, we'll see." She forced Sams mouth open, held him still with her demonic powers and placed the coin on his tongue. Then she started to mumble something in latin and pulled a small flask out of the bag that was slung across her back. The demon untapped it and started to pure the dark liquid into Sams mouth, squeezing his nostrils and mouth shut as she was done and forced it down his throat.

„Don't you worry. - No one's going to know about our little conversation. Not even you. I'll let you forget all about it.", she smiled reassuring and continued to mumble her latin prayer.

„Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, -" A furious grin spread over Deans face and let his eyes smouldered dangerously in the dim room as he started the exorcism spell.

… _... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


**Chapter 6 ~ Soul**

The demon stopped her hardly hearable mumbling in latin instantly and let go of Sam, who laid coughing and wheezing beyond her. The possessed girls gaze shot up and she glared at the intruders with an evil grin.

"It's done.", she hissed.

At the same moment as Dean dared to continue the exorcism, black smoke burst out - of the hosts mouth - above his loves writhing form. The girl collapsed on Sam, spread across his chest.

"Balls.", Bobby cursed as he followed Dean to the bed.

The old man grabbed the unconscious girl around her waist and pulled her from Sam to lay her out on the floor, while Dean was on Sams side, trying to figure out what the demon could've done before they disturbed her. There was some black stains on the pillow beside Sams face, and some of it left on his lips. She must had let him drink something ... made him drink something.

He laid a hand on the younger male's shoulder and rolled him towards him on his side, as Sam tried to get rid of the black goo that congested his airways.

"C'mon, Sammy.", the hunters face in a grimace that showed all the horror he had felt as he entered the room. "Breathe."

The young man sucked in a wheezing breath and clutched the edge of the mattress with both hands, trying to hold onto something.

"What the hell?", Doc Burton stuttered in disbelieve. "What was that?"

Both hunters ignored the shattered man in the doorway.

"She's alive.", Bobby called out and looked at the doctor. "Doc. - C'mon. She's alive. Check on her."

The medicine man didn't react. Just stared at the both of them, then to the bed and then at the girl on the floor again. "Sarah?", he asked hoarse.

"She needs help.", Bobby said demanding and stared at the doctor, who nodded hesitantly, before he moved towards them.

Sams wheezy coughing cut thru the thick air again. Then another strained breath was heard.

"Easy, tiger, easy.", Dean rubbed his back forcefully and looked down at the young man in concern.

Finally Sam sank back into the pillow, exhausted green hazel-orbs blinking at the man above him as he tried and focus on breathing. "She -", he managed to say before he sucked in another breath. It still felt like his lungs wouldn't get enough oxygen.

Dean hushed him quietly. "You with me, Sammy?", he asked concerned not realizing tha he had held his breath until now.

The younger man nodded panting, as Dean brushed a long bang of hair out of his face, letting his hand rest on Sams cheek, watching him closely. "We need to get out of here Bobby." Dean looked towards the old man and the Doc wich were kneeling beside the girl on the floor. Bobby caught his gaze for a moment. "Sure.", he answered.

"Doc.", the hunter claimed Burton's attention and waited for eye contact. "Maybe you could set up an AMA and some supplies for us?", he asked.

The doctor nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat. "I can. - it'll take some time ... you'll need instructions and stuff ..."

Dean just nodded. "Bobby", he returned to the older man. "Go to the motel, grab our stuff and get here with the Impala as soon as you can. - I'll get Sam ready to leave. - We'll wait for you on the entrance." He shared a meaningful glance with the old man. Then he turned his attention towards Sam. "Sammy?", he asked.

Sam tried to focus on the one above him. His vision was still blurry and it felt like he was swaying right below the water surface, unable to break thru it. The hunter was satisfied with the eye contact, not demanding a verbal answer. "We'll get you out of here, Sunshine."

Sam nodded.

He cupped Sams face in his hands. Gently – so gently not to hurt him, not to scare him. "Look at me." he said softly. "Focus, Sammy. ... i need to know what she did."

Sam swallowed. "I – I don't know.", he breathed and swallowed. "I don't know", he whispered as he managed to break the haze that covered his mind.

The hunter cursed and shoved his arms under Sam, pulling him into a gentle hug. He tugged him close to his chest and buried his face in Sams hair, sucking in the decent scent of Sam and all that made him remind that he was there. Was with him. _That he was alive._

Sam felt the warm air of Deans exhale on his sensitive skin, what let goosebumps grow all over his skin and send a shudder down his spine.

"OK. We need to get you dressed. - You think you can do that? Help me a little bit?", Dean whispered. Then he pressed his tender lips meaningfully on Sams forehead, who clung to him as it was for dear life.

Sam nodded again, his breaths coming out in small puffs.

"OK.", Dean withdrew slowly and let the young male sink back into the mattress and soft pillow on the bed. The man under him was as pale as the white sheets around him. The hunter laid a hand on Sams cheek, who leant into the comforting touch and closed his eyes, soaking in the pleasant warmth.

"I don't wanna hurt you.", Sam muttered. "I don't."

Dean watched him closely, taking in the pained creases on the young mans forehead. "You won't. Whatever she did we'll find a way thru it, Sam. - I promise."

The young man laid his hand over Deans and opened his eyes again, wich were filled with tears.

"Don't you cry, Sam. - Please, it's goin' to be OK." Dean tried to reassure him. "It's all going to be okay again, kiddo."

Sam nodded but couldn't hold back the tears anymore. He didn't want to turn into a monster. Didn't want to hurt Dean. Most of all he didn't want to let it get that far. Not by a long shot. He didn't want to change, become someone different and hurt the one person he loved the most. Because that was what he thought the demon had done. And Dean would think the same way, even if he didn't say it out loud.

"That's just wrong." Sam sobbed. "It's all wrong. - why doesn't it stop? Why's all of this happening?"

Dean sighed. "I don't know, Sunshine.", Dean answered after a while. "Sometimes things happen to people who don't deserve them. - But hey ... on the bright side – you got _ME_?", he put on a cocky grin, that morphed into a charming smile. "And I'm all into you. - I'd never ..." he closed his eyes and Deans lips formed into a hard line. ... i _'d never hurt you_ was what he had wanted to say, but didn't. He had hurt Sam already ...

Sam smiled unconsciously and let out a short chuckle that sent a stabbing pain thru his chest. "Yeah ... lucky me."

"See?" The hunter smiled gently and brushed Sams tears away. "Now let's get packed up. - When we're back at Bobby's we'll deal with the rest."

As Dean had gathered some clothes for _his sasquatch_ , he helped him to sit up. Sam let his legs slide over the edge of the bed, not thinking about the broken one. It bumped to the floor with a thump and sent a wave of pain thru his leg.

"Sorry, Sammy." Dean grimaced in sympathy and shoved a wheelchair to the bed, where a lump of dark fabric laid. He caught Sams gaze. "Ready to get started?"

Sam nodded. He seemed even paler than before, his lips still covered in light shiny dark-blue black. Either from the lack of oxygen or the black liquid the demon had forced down his throat.

Dean took his time to get Sam dressed into a pair of oversized sweatpants where the casted leg fit in. He made a pause and let Sam catch his breath before he helped him into the shirt wich one he had borrowed from the patient next door. The hunter swore at the sight of Sams torso, wich was battered with purple, blue and green fading bruises. Dean traced his fingers down Sams chest, pulling the shirt with it and let them run over the bandage that covered the stab wound on Sams side. There was a small stain of blood noticable. Either he had pulled some stitches ... or ...

"Did she hurt you?", Dean asked concerned.

Sam looked up in shock. "No – I – i don#t know. - Ii don't think so.", he touched his throat unconsciously. "it feels weird to try and remember what she did."

Sams lips screwed up in a pained motion as he tried to recall what the demon had done. He wanted to remember what she had done, what she had said. He didn't want to hurt Dean, didn't want to be cursed or a spells victim. Sam sensed that it had been something important, but the more he pushed forward the more the stinging pain blazed up in his head.

Dean frowned as he watched Sams face lit up in exhaustion and pain.

"Stop it. - it's probably a spell. You can't." Dean grabbed Sam by the shoulders. "You won't remember."

"It hurts. - it hurts to try to remember.", Sam gasped and threw a hand to his temple. "Oh god." As Sam opened his eyes his pupils were blown wide .

"Let it go.", Dean gripped him tighter.

The young man sucked in a deep breath and his eyes screwed shut. "We'll figure it out.", Dean told him quietly. "Just let it go." He cupped Sams face in his hands. "OK?", the hunter asked gently and Sam nodded once more. "OK – so just take it easy until we know more about it." He let out a deep sigh. "Now lets go, and get out of here."

"Hold onto me and I'll sit you into the chair, OK?" Dean smiled softly.

The young man nodded and Dean bowed down, letting Sam lay his arms around his neck. Dean slung his arms around Sams torso and braced himself with a deep inhale of oxygen. "Try and stand a little. It'll hurt less."

Sam snorted in Deans shoulder. "On three?", he asked, his words caught from Deans shirt, so that they came out as muffled sounds.

"On three."; Dean said. "One, Two, ..." "Three." both of them said in union.

Dean lifted him up and held most of the younger mans weight, wich seemed to had lessened lately. He turned with him, Sam heaving a muffled moan into the hunters shoulder as he let him down into the chair.

"You OK, Baby?", Dean asked as he lessened his grip and laid a hand on Sams face that seemed paler than before.

Sam nodded panting, unable to give a verbal answer. He let himself sink back into the chair and laid a hand on his forehead to stop the relentless spinning.

"Why don't you just leave me here, Dean? You both should get as far away from me as possible. - I mean – c'mon ... is it really worth it?" Sam muttered and shook his head.

Dean swallowed hard, his lips forming into a hard line. "YOU are worth it, Sammy. - I'd never leave you. Not ever." he answered quietly. The elder male laid a hand on Sams face, guiding his head up, so he was able to face him as he bowed down. "You hear me? There's no way i'd leave you behind ... or even leave you because of anything."  
Sam broke the eye contact and looked down, tears letting his eyes sparkle in the bright daylight that flooded the room.

He didn't seem to believe Dean and who could possibly blame him? The hunter had hurt him in ways ... in ways he didn't want to think about. And honestly: He was surprised that Sam let even come near him anymore. Would it had been him, he'd killed the son of a bitch. Possessed or not possessed. "I hope one day you'll trust me again." He sighed deeply and placed a gentle kiss on Sams head.

The younger male didn't look up, nor showed any kind of reaction. After a while, as they had picked up the doctors instructions and supplies and were on their way to the main entrance Sam whispered a silent **I do.**

"What?", Dean had gotten dragged out of his deep thoughts.

"Trusting you. _I do_.", Sam repeated softly.

A by Sam unseen big smile formed all over Deans face as he shoved him outside and a cold breeze of air blew against them and let both men shiver from the cold. The Impala stood already there, with Bobby behind the wheel, the engine running.

Dean maneuvered Sam as carefully as possible into the backseat of the Impala and crawled in on the other side, where he placed Sams head on his lap. He brushed an overlong chestnut-brown bang out of Sams face and let his hand rest on the younger mans chest. Sams face was covered in cool sweat and his skin seemed even paler.

"You ready back there?" Bobby's gruffy voice was heard.

"Yeah, let's go." Dean answered, taking in Sams unfocused gaze. "Tired?", he asked softly.

Sam exhaled deeply as respond and his eyes fluttered closed. Dean felt the steady shuddering breaths of Sam under his palm, simultaneously adapting his own breathing. "I love you, Sunshine.", he whispered on the verge of tears. "It hurts to see you that way. - I wish it would have never happened. I wish i could turn back time, i wish we wouldn't have gone on that hunt at all ... I just should have stopped it. I should've stopped it all ..."

"I'm not mad", the younger man murmured.

"I know, but you should be.", Dean countered and bit his lower lip.

Sam moaned low and shifted a little bit, sunken in the darkest dreams he ever had.

* * *

The young man woke up with a wheezing gasp. A hand pressed on his chest and hindered him to sit up.

"Easy, Sam. - It's all fine.", he heard Deans hoarse voice. "We're in the Impala."

The young man took another couple of short breaths, then his vision started to focus slowly. A pair of emerald-green eyes looked at him and the hand that still rested on his chest started to rub gentle circles into the fabric of his borrowed tee.

"Nightmare.", Sam breathed, the horror of it written all over his face.

"Figured.", Deans voice changed unmistakable into bitterness. He stroke with his free hand thru Sams hair and smiled sadly. "We're going to be OK?"

Sam nodded as he recalled all the events of the past month in fast motion. "What if-", Sam started silently.

"No. - Don't ruin the moment. - We'll figure it out." Dean grinned.

"We didn't have a moment.", Sam smiled back.

"Didn't mention what kind of moment." The hunter cocked his eyebrows.

Sam started to feel the pain that flooded thru his body from the unnatural angle he was in. His casted leg started to throb as it rested beside the backseat on the bottom of the Impala, as every pothole seemed to make it worse.

He winced as the car hit another one.

"Bobby.", Dean called out in thoughts.

"Yeah?" The old hunter sounded tired, though his eyes remained focused in the rearview mirror as he shot a glance into it.

"Think we should get off the road until tomorrow."

Bobby glanced once more into the mirror, taking in Deans unreadable features and with a silent " _Best idea ever_ " he guided his look back on the road before him.

"No. - lets just ... get to Bobby's. - Don't mind me. It's OK. It ain't bad.", Sam spoke up. "I'm good back here."

"No, you aren't. I'm either. I don't feel my legs anymore and Bobby's tired. - We'll get some rest and something to eat. - I need to stretch my old bones out."

Sam nodded embarrassed. He knew they'd stop because of him – _just him_. The both men were hunters since ... since a damn long time at least ... probably since they were born. Skillful and hard to get down. He on the opposite was weak, a burden ever since they had picked him up. He was pulling them down, holding them back. He wasn't more as the monsters they usually were hunting. Once he'd be their doom ...

"Sammy?", Dean voice ripped him away from the self destroying thoughts.

"Yeah?" Sam asked silently.

"You with us?" The hunter watched him closely. - The spell ... or whatever the demon had used on Sam ... it maybe would start to work soon, and every changing in his behaviour could be a sign for it.

"Sure." Sam lied.

"You looked like you're miles away in that geek brain of yours." Dean mentioned quietly.

"Just in thoughts", Sam answered whispering.

"I'd give a penny for ya thoughts.", Dean said after a while, not wanting to leave it be that easy.

"Nothing important, Dean." He put on a unpersuasive smile, but his orbs remained wherever he had been in his mind.

Half an hour later they had found a small no-name motel. Bobby moved into the office, while Dean helped the young man to sit up and adjust him so he'd be more comfortable.

"Sam?", he asked concerned and ran his hand up Sams neck, sending a tickling feeling all over the younger mans skin.

"Yeah – I'm here", he answered. "I'm here."

"Uhuuu ...", Dean replied and shook his head.

A couple of minutes later Bobby opened the door to the backseat where Sam held his position. "Paid for tonight and have to check out by tomorrow noon, boy. - Enough time to get back on our feet."

Dean nodded past Sam. "We'll do this together, Sunshine.", he spoke towards the youngest among them. "Just hold onto us, and we'll have you inside in zero time."

Sam shot him a pleading gaze. He didn't want more as to stay where he was right now.

"Nah, we have to. - You need to stretch out for a while. Your ribs and your leg will thank you later for it." ... _just like that_ ... just like Dean was able to read his thoughts.

He sighed and looked thru the open door - up at Bobby who smiled reassuring. "Nice and slow, kiddo."

The three of them made it slowly to their room. They mostly carried Sam the short way towards their destination. As they approached at the door, they leaned the injured man beside it against the wall. While Dean held him back with a gentle hand on his chest, Bobby fumbled the key into the lock.

"Just a couple of yards to go.", Dean whispered softly, leaning in closer. He laid a hand on Sams jaw, feeling the thin layer of sweat on the younger mans cheek. His breaths blew out in shallow short puffs as the world around him started to spin again. He laid his hands on Deans hips to stabilize himself as he felt his body start to give in.

Bobby finally opened the door in a wide angle.

"Just a few steps, Sam, then you can lay down again." Dean slung one arm under Sams shoulder, while Bobby took the other side. "Got him?", Dean asked, shooting a glance at the old man.

He nodded in respond.

They guided the youngest among them towards the bed farthest from the door and let him sit on it.

"I'll put the protections on.", Bobby gave Dean a meaningful look, who responded with a small nod.

"I'll get you all settled, OK?", Dean watched Sams pale sweat-soaked face and the dark circles under his eyes. He didn't stir. He was too exhausted and too concentrated to breath.

Dean sighed and his forehead creased in concern, as he guided _his love_ backwards on the bed and lifted his legs up to arrange the broken one on a pillow. As he was sure that Sam was comfortable, he got back to the Impala, grabbing the bag with the medical supplies and helped Bobby to finish the warding of the room. Later he returned to Sams side who was drifting in and out, fighting unconsciousness.

The hunter sat down on the edge of the bed where Sams hip was. Then he sat a new IV in Sams lower arm and attached a bag with Saline and painmeds to it. "You should sleep, Sam."

"NO", the young male protested exhausted.

Dean laid down beside him, moving as close as possible.

"Please stay.", Sam said as his eyes fluttered shut, unable to stay awake anymore.

"I'll do. Won't go anywhere.", Dean smiled and traced a finger over Sams jaw and neck. He turned towards Bobby, who was watching the both of them with a soft smile. "We'll need some Jell-O and soup. - Would you?"

Bobby nodded and cleared his throat. "Burgers or Taccos for us?"

"Whatever you want." Dean answered with a sad smile, brushing gently over Sams hair.

Sam moaned in disappointment, as Dean stopped his comforting gesture.

"I'm here.", Dean muttered soothing as he continued. "I'm here. Don't you worry." He laid his head on the pillow as he saw Sams relaxing face and his breaths started to even out. He was still wondering how Sam could forgive him for what he had done. - Why he hadn't run for the hills ... Why he accepted the things like the were ... at least in a couple of aspects. Dean wasn't sure if he'd forgive anyone who would've done THIS to him. He wasn't even sure if he'd be able to forgive Sam, if he had done something like that to him.

A while later Bobby came back with two fully stuffed paper-bags in his hands. He entered carefully, not to wake Sam and let the door slide into the lock as he was in.

The younger hunter got up slowly and moved to the couch, where Bobby had put the bags. He picked one of them up and pulled a coke out. "So ...", he started as Bobby sat down beside him. "What do you think?"

"A spell probably." Bobby muttered. "But as long as we don't know what exactly she did ...", he glanced at Sam.

"How can we reverse it?", Dean took another zip of his coke.  
"Usually an Antidote would make it. - But for an Antidote we'd need to know what she used."

"Damn it.", the younger hunter cursed unconsciously. "I thought spells wear off after some time?"

"Not if it's one who wears off after it's done what's supposed to be do, Boy. - Kinda like a curse at some point." the old man answered and unpacked a tacco. "We just have to ..."

"What and see.", Dean finished for him.

"Yeah - Right now he seems pretty normal." Bobby took a big bite.

"He's all beaten up. "Dean huffed sarcastically. "He's not able to even pinch my butt right now."

"Too much information, Son." Bobby looked at him seriously.

Dean smiled cheeky, before his featured turned serious again. "So you think it's something similar like ..."

Bobby nodded. "What else?"

Dean shrugged. "I think Sam thinks the same. - Hemight feels something ..."  
"Did you feel something?" The old man asked interested.

After a long silence Dean replied. "Yeah – i did."

"But it'd be different ... in this case it's a spell and not a bone."

"Different how?" The younger hunter rubbed over his furrowed forehead.

"I don't know.", the old man answered. "We'll need to find a way to figure it out when we're back and settled. - You should stay in my house for a while ... i mean the both of you of course."

Dean nodded again. "Sam'll think I'm not trusting him.", he muttered.

"He'll know it's better that way. He'll understand."

Dean shook his head. "It's going to make it even more complicated."  
"For you or for him?", Bobby asked and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sam doesn't seem like he's mad at you."

D scuffed and took the burger Bobby handed over to him. "At least not now."

They ate and talked. Exchanged ideas and took notes until the night broke over the land. Though they weren't able to proof anything without proper research.

Dean went to bed early. He took his place beside Sam, laying down on the covers and wrapping an arm around Sams waist. He rubbed gentle over the place where his hipbone had to me and closed his eyes.

* * *

Dean woke with a start, as he felt a slight movement next to him. Sam was stirring as his breaths speed up until it ended up in a frantic gaping for oxygen.

"Sam? ... Sammy ... wake up, Sunshine.", Dean said hoarse. His mind not ready for this. He got up on his elbow and laid a hand on Sams jaw. "Sammy – please wake up.", he said quietly. "Baby, c'mon. - I'm here. You're OK." _... Yeah, now that wasn't quiet right ... you're actually with the guy who did this to you ..._ "You're with me." ... _didn't sound very comforting either at the moment ... for Dean_

Sams eyes started to move slowly under the eyelids, then he blinked his eyes open and let them on half-mast.

"Dean.", he breathed husky.

"Yeah me – the one and only.", he rubbed over his face and looked at Sam for a while before he narrowed slowly as he caught Sams tired gaze.

The young man smiled happily, covering the sadness in his eyes.

The hunter laid a hand on Sams cheek, rubbing over his cheekbone as he turned his head around. The young male leaned into the touch and closed his eyes.

Dean closed the little space that was remaining between the both of them and brushed with his nose over Sams, tilting his head to the side to have better access to the pale dry cushions he loved so much. He places his tender pink lips on Sams, deepening the kiss as the young man responded and kissed him back. He parted his lips and a small groan left Sams throat as Deans tongue slid between his teeth.

"Boys?", Bobby's sleepy voice cut thru the love-filled air.

Both grinned into the kiss and parted slowly. "Yeah?", Dean asked low and brushed a thin layer of saliva from Sams lips.

"I'm gonna get breakfast.", he sounded disturbed. "Just – i mean - just wait until I'm gone. "

Dean chuckled.

"Just kissin' Bobby.", Sam added with bright eyes, his cheeks blushed in a deep red.

"Whatever – I need coffee." Bobbys voice came just half as gruffy as it was meant to be.

Dean slid one of his arms under Sams neck and leaned is forehead against Sams. "Gettin' us some too?", he asked loud. "... And take your time."

Bobby groaned in respond and then the mattress was squeaking. Fifteen minutes later they were all on their own in the room. Dean moved as close as possible and wrapped his arms tighter around Sam, placing another longingly kiss on his lips. "I love to do that."

Sam groaned again in approval, trying to roll on his side but didn't work as his body protested. The young man hissed and grimaced.

"Need to get another IV started, Sunshine." Dean murmured concerned.

"It's OK. - You can ... can take what you want ... you know?" Sam said hesitantly.

Dean closed his eyes. A wave of nausea caught him and dared to drag him down. He could tell exactly what Sam wanted to say with it. - He had beaten it into him for seventy-three hours. "No Sam – don't.", he placed a hand on Sams jaw and held him tight before he looked streight into a pair of regret-filled hazel-eyes.

"Please.", Sam took Deans hand and guided it towards his stomach, but before it was able to reach his destination, Dean pulled away. Wouldn't it had been about Sam he'd run for the hills right there. Without hesitation. "No – it's – Sam. That's not what i want, OK?" He laid his hand on Sams chest and looked deep into his eyes. "That's what i want. - Laying here with you, having you close and alive. That's all i need, Sunshine. I swear."

"But -" The young man tried to talk up.

"Just you, Sam. - Just you. And when you're back on top we'll see what you really want." The hunter smiled reassuring.

"Dean i owe you.", the young man stuttered on the verge of tears. "Just please ... "  
Stop. - Sam, stop it. - You owe me nothing. Nothing, you hear me? I DO OWE YOU. Owe you everything and much more ..."

Sam blinked the tears away and looked at the ceiling.

"You gotta believe me." Dean laid his head on Sams shoulder. "I wish you'd believe me."

They lay there for a long while, before Dean made up another bag of saline and his painmeds to attach them to Sams IV. This time he had added more of the painkillers since they'd hit the road as soon as the drip would be empty. He rather wanted Sam to sleep and all fuzzy and loopy than hurting. Then he grabbed two of the Jell-O-cups and a plastic spoon to place them on the nightstand. Dean picked up the pillows from Bobbys bed and sat down on Sams. He helped him to sit up and stuffed the pillows behind Sam.

"Time to get some food into you.", Dean smiled and opened the cup with the green Jell-O inside. "Hmmm ... _apple_."

Sam grinned. " _Apple_?"

"Or cherry?", Dean held up the red one.

"Nah, i'm good." Sam raised his hand to grab the cup, but Dean pulled it away. "Let me – please."

"I think i can eat by myself.", Sam started to slur already.

"Sure? I could feed you ... I'd love to do that." Deans voice was soaked in playful arousal by the end.

Sam chuckled and flinched as his ribs protested. "Ow ..."

Dean smiled. He loved those deep dimples, the brightness in Sams hazel-orbs when he laughed. "Give me the damn Jell-O." Sam reached for the cub.

Dean obeyed and shrugged with a sigh. "Your loss, Sammy."

The young male smiled all over his face. That's what he had missed for so long.

"And we've to change your bandages.", Dean added a while later as he opened the red coloured Jell-O.

Three hours later they were all set to leave and hit the road again. Sam and Dean on the backseat and Bobby driving.

* * *

The painmeds hat wore off about three hours after they had left the motel. Now two hours later – they were finally back in Sioux Falls, South Dakota aka home. Bobby pulled the Impala as close to the porch of his house as possible.

The pain filled moans and gasps from the backseat had made him all gooey and held him on the edge of going insane for the past two hours. Every damn pothole wasn't just a pothole anymore. It was a moan, groan or a silent cry.

"I'd say we bring him in and put him on the couch, then i'll go and get your room ready. - You could open some tins with Chilli and for our _little one_ back there a bowl of oatmeal. - Gotta get him on solid food again someday."

Dean nodded in approval and helped Sam to sit up once again. They maneuvered him on the couch in the living room and Dean grabbed a stuck of blankets from the storeroom down the hall. He covered Sams shivering body in a couple of layers, since it seemed to be colder inside then on the yard.

Dan shivered too and the coldness stuck in his bones pretty soon ... He felt the cold most often worse as Sam did. But he'd survive. He wasn't hurt ... _not like Sam_. He had made the priorities clear. They had to get settled, had to get it warm in the house and had to make food. So he left Sam alone to go into the kitchen, while Bobby made up the fireplace and went upstairs to prepare the room for _his boys_.

An hour later there was fire in the fireplace, a comforting scent of warm oatmeal and chilli flooding the first storey.

Sam had fallen asleep some time after Dean had left him. He didn't shiver anymore. His cheeks were colored in a deep red as he got warmed up slowly.

Dean smiled at him blissfully, as he watched the taller man sleep peacefully.

"Wanna wake him up?", Bobby asked quietly behind him.

Dean shook his head. "Nah – i'll give him another thirty minutes."

_... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


** Chapter 7 ~ Breaking Point **

Dean groaned under the weight of Sams dead weight, as he helped him into the bathtub. He was running a fever since last night. Nothing unusual wouldn't there have been the demon two weeks ago that had made him swallow some black goo that was supposed to change things. Though, everything seemed normal. At least as normal as possible. Sam didn't show any kind of aggression or rage, or hate against Dean. He was just ... different and the older hunter figured that this was what the demon had done. The young man seemed tired all the time, wasn't talking a lot. Not that Sam was a big talker ... but now it was pretty much less than he had before. He stared out of the window most of the day, was sunken in thoughts and barely ate anything Dean served him. Not even blueberry-pancakes ...

Last night Sam had removed his cast in some fever-ruled dream and wouldn't let anyone put it back on. He didn't want to ... at some point it looked like he had given up. Yeah, he was smiling at some point, but his features remained filled with sadness, so did his green hazel-eyes. And it was getting worse with every day that passed.

"Don't make me.", Dean dared and caught Sams gaze, giving him serious looks.

Sam just sighed and laid his wet hand on the hunters cheek. "I'm sorry. - I don't know what's wrong with me.", he explained silently.

"I know, Sunshine." Dean gave him a sad smile. "We'll figure it out. - Just hold on, OK?"

Sam nodded. "I try ... but ... it's so damn hard."

Dean sighed once more, a deep depressed sigh. "Whatever you think – it's not you. - You hear me? You're the apple of my eye, Baby. There's no way i could live without you." He leaned into Sams gentle touch and started to rub the younger mans chest with a soft sponge.

"Did Bobby find something?", Sam asked after a while soaking in the cool water.

Dean looked up. "Yeah, we found something. - He's making up the antidote and we'll see if it'll work this time."

Sam nodded and chuckled. "The last one gave me a fever – wanna make bets what the next one's gonna do to me?", his words covered in sarcasm.

"I won't make a bet at this. - I don't like the trying-around.", Dean stated and shook his head.

"But ... it's the only way, unless the demon comes by and tells us what she did. - Or someone finds a way to get into my head and makes me remember what happened back there ...", Sam gave back.

Dean nodded.

"Still no answer from Cas?", Sam asked.

"No. - I guess the angel radio is down since they're fighting about who's going to become the new god ... or how to get rid of Lucifer.", the hunter said. Actually he had been gone since last christmas, when Balthazar had called him on christmas-eve for help.

"Balthazar?", he got on asking.

They had tried a couple of angel-summoning-rituals and no one came. No Castiel, no Balthazar ...

"Nahhh ...", Dean answered. "You don't know that guy. - He's a son of a bitch. He doesn't care. I don't think he'd come even if he could."

Sam sighed. "I thought about a spell ... a spell to make me remember ..." He watched Deans face, waiting for any sign of emotion. "... i think i saw one in one of Bobby's books. - I think it'd help us shortening the whole process of whatever this is supposed to be."

Dean shook his head. "No way. - We talked about this already. It's too dangerous. You could die."

"I'm barely holding it together. - The way i feel ... it's - I AM disgusting.", Sam confessed. "I know you love me, you say it all the damn time. But i can't ... i know _what_ i am."

Dean grimaced at the younger mans words. "You're no _WHAT_ ... you're Sam. - You're _not_ disgusting, you're _not_ filthy. - _You're_ all i want. - I've never met a person like _you_. I was never that lucky. Until about nine months ago. And i won't let you get taken away from me. You didn't let me go either. - You could've run off. You could've been gone so many times. But you didn't. - Though you figured out that something was wrong with me, that I was possessed. Though you knew deep down in that geek-brain of yours what could possibly happen. And you stayed with me ... you didn't gave up. You were trying to save me, Sam. ... So do i. So does Bobby. I won't make a different choice as you did."

Sam shook his head in disbelieve. "I'm sorry."

That were most of his answers lately ... He was sorry _period_ and ashamed ... so damn ashamed of himself. Back in his mind he knew it had to be the spell ... but the voice that told him that it was a spell or curse that made him feel the way he felt right now, grew more and more silent with every day that passed.

"You ready to get out?", Dean asked and laid the sponge aside.

Sam nodded and slung his arms around Deans neck, letting himself be lifted up under his knees and shoulders to be carried back into the bedroom of the cabin where Dean laid him down on the bed. "Then ... let's get you dried off.", Dean said and tossed him a towel. "I'll help you to get dressed ... later." He blinked with his left eye at Sam and smiled. "I'll put up coffee – call me when you're ready."

Sam nodded with a deep sigh. He couldn't believe that he still felt too weak for some things. Essential things. He was able to walk ... at least with the crutches, and now as he had gotten rid of the cast he was able to use them. - Though ... Dean prefered to carry him into the bath and back again, wanted him to stay in bed until the fever would be gone again. And at some point the hunter was right. It was better that way. - Sam was way too dizzy to coordinate his legs and the crutches.

* * *

The blonde attractive man in the black suit stood at the end of the dead-end of the alley, keeping his eyes open for the one he was waiting for. His ice-blue iris of his eyes shone in the darkness of the night, as he turned around to see a fine-boned woman coming towards him. The young female stopped a couple of feet away and tilted her head to the side.

"There _were_ orders.", the man said quietly, his face drawn in hard lines. "There _are_ rules."

The woman scuffed and chuckled sweetly. "My orders are of a different kind now. - The only ones orders i follow are _HERs_."

"So - _she_ does know what you're doing up here?"

The woman grinned suspiciously. "Well yeah. It was actually _her_ oder to pick one of them, or even both. Our plans have changed. Her plans have changed. After you left there was chaos. Now there's a system."

Rage burnt up in the mans eyes while his featured remained those of a statue.

"You won't stop it. It's done and irreversible ...", She chuckled again with a winning grin. "So – if you excuse me ... there are a couple of hunters left on my list to collect."

She was about to turn around and vanish, as her eyes flashed black and she froze in her tracks.

The man behind her had extended his arm towards the woman and held her back with his godlike abilities. "There had been orders. There were rules. - Even if i am not your king anymore ... you will respect me and my wishes as you are supposed to do." He said coldly. "I won't let you or Abaddon destroy _MY_ plans for this world." He sounded emotionless and cold. " **NOW** _SHOW ME_ what you did to the Winchester and Azazel's Child."

Then his eyes covered in white mist and the possessed host sank gasping on her knees. The eyes of the blonde man fluttered closed and he spread his mouth wide open - as black smoke got ripped out of the possessed body in front of him. Ready to get swallowed by the man who was supposed to be called the devil.

* * *

A couple of minutes later Dean returned to the bedroom, after he had left Sam to get a bowl of steaming oatmeal. Sam laid on his side of the bed under the comforter and was dozing along with the soft sounds of _Every Rose Has It's Thorn_.

"Hey.", Dean called out softly to get the younger male's attention.

Sam sat up awkwardly and smiled at the hunter. The older man sat down beside him and laid a hand on Sams forehead, as he set the bowl down on the bedside table."Seems to get better.", Dean muttered, satisfied that the fever seemed to go away. "How you're feeling?"

"I'm better. - I'm good.", Sam answered and it seemed to be true. He looked more alert and happier.

Dean smiled satisfied and brushed over Sams temple and cheek and let his hand rest on the younger mans jaw. Sam leaned into his touch and covered Deans pink full cushions with his, kissing and nuzzling on his lower lip and earning a gutteral growl of Dean. The hunter adjusted himself over the young man and kissed him back gently as he felt an arm around his back wich pulled him closer.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Sunshine.", Dean said between kisses and moans. Sam was still sore and whatever it was that made him depressive as hell ... this wasn't exactly what Dean had planned for the night. Rather lingering on the couch or bed and watching some movies. Maybe a little bit of cuddling and kissing ...

"I do.", Sam reassured him and laid back, pulling the hunter with him. "We haven't ...", he groaned as Dean kissed and lapped down his neck. " ... done this in a while", the hunters voice grew low and dark with arousal as he ended Sams sentence.

He pulled the comforter down to get better access to Sams shirt and slipped with his hand under it, feeling the over-heated skin of his lower stomach. The young man arched up under Deans touch and bit his lower lip, as Dean presses his hips against Sams, feeling the young man's hardness thru the fabric of Sams sweats and his jeans. He wasn't sure if the both of them would be doing this ever again. He wasn't sure if he'd let himself do this ever again. But at this point ... there was no return anymore. Sam wanted it, he wanted it. The man below him had never given him the feeling that he wasn't _his_ anymore, didn't want to be close with him again.

They freed themselves from their clothes between all the small noises, nuzzling, brushing and teasing, until they were unclothed and felt their skins on one another. Dean was careful ... so careful not to hurt Sam, not to do something wrong. He was gentle and soft with the young male, worshipping him like it was the first and the last time they'd spent together like this.

Dean covered him with his body, carefully, not to put too much pressure on the still hurting body beyond him and kissed him, over and over again, let his hands and fingers roam over him, discovering every single inch of Sams tall frame. The hunter sunk in between Sams legs, while his gaze was locked with a pair of darkened hazel-green eyes. That was it. He wanted to see him, know that this was what the younger man wanted, that it wasn't just him who longed for this since weeks earlier, when everything seemed to be lost.

"Are you sure, Sunshine?", Dean asked low, a glimpse of concern swinging in his voice. "We can stop right here, right now ... just kissing and all that stuff ..."

Sam gave him a reassuring smile and blinked _once_ ... _twice_ ... "Keep on going, Dean.", he whispered and his smile widened.

* * *

Dean sniffed and pinches his lips, as a golden sunbeam brushed his shut eyelids, that shone thru the window on the other side of the room. He moved his hand, that was meant to be wrapped around a tall, well toned frame beside him. His palm spread out on the space where the covers were tugged under the mattress as there had never been someone with him on the bed. This was when his eyes snapped open and his gaze landed on the empty side of the bed that was meant to be Sams. With one shot he was awake and high alert as his hunter-senses kicked in.

With one fast motion he was out of bed and putting the cabin upside down on his hunt for Sam. After he had found nothing but the fact that Sams jacket and shoes were missing, he got dressed in no-time and hurried to Bobby's house where he entered without knocking.

His look fell on a completely stattered Bobby who stood in the kitchen with a small pan in one and a cup of coffee in the other hand. "Dean?", he asked, all color drawn from his face. From one second to another the old man was all in hunters-mode. "What's wrong?", he asked and his eyes widened.

"He's gone. Sam's gone.", the Winchester cried out in despair.

"Bobby put the pan and the coffee aside before they'd been cursed to slide out of his trembling hands and hit the floor. "How long?"

"I don't know. Could happened some time after ... we ...- I think he ran off. - His shoes and his jacket are missing.", Dean explained panting. "Where could he go, Bobby? ... he's .." He grimaced and threw a hand to his forehead as a sharp pain tore thru his mind. His legs gave out under him and he fell t o his knees before Bobby was able to catch him.

The younger hunter was about to draw in a deep breath, as another searing flash of agony tore his head apart and sent him right over the edge into a deep darkness.

_... to be continued_

* * *

  
  


**~ Chapter 8 ~ Torn ~**

It was then when his eyes fluttered open. All the pain was gone and he found himself on a field of surging golden corn. A soft warm breeze brushed over his face while he looked into the blue clear skies above him.

Just a few yards away from Dean, stood a human looking frame. Dressed in a black suit and blonde half-long hair that waved in the gentle breeze of what seemed like a late august's day. The blonde man turned around and bright ice-blue orbs met emerald-green ones.

"Hello Dean.", he said softly and a smile built on his lips that never reached the man's eyes.

"I've got better stuff to do right now.", Dean said urging. "Than having a chitchat with the devil, you know?" Impatience carried his words over his lips.

The man rose a hand to stop the Winchester from babbling. "I know. That's why i am here. You have to find Sam. - Now listen closely: I'll give you a list with the things you'll need to reverse the spell. - You'll remember it when you need it. It'd take too much time to explain everything right here, right now."

Dean swallowed and his strained features became hard and unreadable, as the green in his orbs froze. The devil knew about the spell? - Well fine. As long as it would work he would be cool with it. - Though ... who could guarantee that it wasn't some kind of trap, wich would send Sam right over the edge?

"This wasn't just any demon looking for some pleasure. It is about the _ten commandments_. If you'd have killed Sam, you unmistakably would've broken one of them. What means you'd have committed a sin. Wich means .. "The devil rolled with his eyes. "... that your soul would've belonged to hell. - Don't ask why. I know it wouldn't have been your fault directly, but it's just the way it is, so take it as that. And i don't know why they do it. I only know that SHE is collecting souls. _Not any souls._ They're gathering the souls of hunters. Sam's going to end himself, he ends up in hell. Since i can't reach him right now ... i had to contact you." Lucifer sighed, his eyes filled with sorrow. "You've to make sure he's not going to commit suicide. - His soul will go streight to hell for it. - And **I** am pretty sure you won't like to have him there."

Dean swallowed again, this time harder as he eying the devil from tip to toe. "Why?" he didn't even know why he asked _why_ ... he didn't even know what he wanted to know ... he just did, trying to figure out what this all was supposed to mean.

"Because it's slumbering in him. Like it was in you. His self confidence ... well it's not the best and we both know that. - the things that are buried deep down inside him ... _it's him_ and the spell brings it over the surface. - Like the bone did with you. All the anger and distress that's buried deep inside you ... it wouldn't work that way if it wasn't for this. - I think, whatever you had to do, it had to be _YOU_ ... it had to be _PURE_.", he explained eagerly. "Anyways. - No time for this right now."

"You know where he is?" Deans voice broke under the burden of all the information he had gotten.

"The yard, in the garage of your friend's home. - Talk him out of it and get him to drink the fluid ... the receipt is already in your head." The devil continued. "In less than forty-eight hours it'll wear off."

Dean nodded in thoughts. "Why do you do this?" His eyebrows furrowed as he sensed something like fraud in the devils words.

Lucifer smiled reassuring. "Because it's important to me that both of you are alive. - And now go before it's too late." With these words he snapped his fingers and everything went dark again for the hunter.

A split second later Deans eyes snapped open and he was back in Bobby's kitchen, spread out on the floor.

"Holy crap, Boy. - There you go." Bobby laid a hand on Deans shoulder and smiled concerned. "Easy. -" He wanted to push Dean back down, but the hunter didn't let him.

"Sam – Sam's outside." Dean drew in another deep breath.

"How'd you know?" Bobby eyed him confused.

"Trust me, I know and will explain everything later. - He's in the garage.", Dean gave the old man a determining look.

Bobby nodded and helped the younger man up. "You lead I'll follow."

Dean swayed for a moment. He felt dizzy and a small leftover of the pain in his head thumped against the inner walls of his skull. "You'll stay back. I'll talk."

"Talk?", Bobby asked confused.

"Talk.", Dean stated and gave him a meaningful look as they jogged across the yard towards the garage.

The younger hunter gave the older one an unmistakable sign to slow down as they narrowed. Everything was silent – like Death-silence. Just a single crow on one of the wrecked cars yelled.

Dean gathered all his strength as he stood in front of the leaned on iron-made side door. He shared a glance with the old man beside him.

Sam had to be alive. He couldn't be too late. Not now where he knew how to _heal_ him. Not now when he could _save_ him.

Dean opened the door slowly and a high-pitched squeak followed as the iron scratched over the concrete and lurked into the dark garage. Just a few faintly sun beams lightened the usually pitch-black room.

"Sam?", he called out carefully.

No respond.

"I know you're in here.", Dean entered and looked around closely. Taking in the mess and dirty floor and all the tools scattered or laid out on the multiple surfaces around.

"C'mon Sunshine." Dean held his breath, trying to sense the slightest sound or movement in the building.

After what seemed like hours to the hunter, a voice broke the strained silence. "Go away. - Please Dean.", a shuddering voice was heard and broke on the walls.

Dean moved slowly, his motions like the ones of a predator coming for its prey. He rounded the corner, his eyes darting thru the room, taking it in, calculating what he'd do if it'd come to the worst case. "Baby, please.", Dean pleaded as he sensed a suspicious movement behind the car int he middle of the room.

"I didn't want you to come. - I didn't want you to see it. - I thought you'd deserve a good memory of me." It was Sams voice ... but so broke, so vulnerable ...

Dean heard muffled sobs coming from behind the wrecked mustang in the middle of the big room he was in. "I deserve more than just a memory. - I deserve **YOU**." His voice shuddered, as a cold shiver ran down his spine. The hunter went around the hoods car and stopped as he saw Sam, crouching against the passengers door in a cross-legged position. The bright silver of a baretta flashed up and drew Deans attention. It was the gun Dean had bought him. Tender engravings along the barrel and the ivory inlays on the butt.

"Sammy?", Dean asked gently, eying the heartrending figure.

The young man looked up thru overlong dark bangs and red rimmed, tear-filled eyes. "Please go, Dean."

"No.", he breathed with a nervous chuckle and took a step forward. Then he squat down beside Sam.

"I need to do this. - I have to. - I owe you ...", Sam stuttered in between heartbreaking sobs.

"Why, Sam. - Tell me why you think you owe me that much." Deans eyebrows furrowed. He didn't understand how he could think ... how he could say something like that. - Well yeah, in fact he did, it was the spell ... though it tore on him and hurt deep down in his heart.

"Because you deserve better. - Better than me. - One day ..." A silent sob came over his pink lips. "- One day I'll drag you all down with me." His fingers ghosted over the barrel of his weapon, drawing Deans attention again. "You know that's not you talking, right?"

Sam blinked and gripped the butt tighter, so that his knuckles turned white. "This is ME. - I just didn't realize before. - I should've ..."

"No-", Dean stopped him. "That's what the damn forsaken spell does to you. - Trust me." he fixed Sams gaze, diving with his look deep into Sams hazel-orbs. All he saw was pure despair and pain. "Sam – If you do this ... i don't want to be without you ... then I've to follow you wherever you go. - I won't leave you alone. - Not in this." ... since the hunter knew where Sam would end up ...

The young man stared at him in disbelieve. Taking in Deans serious features and poker face and looking thru it, seeing the hurt and truth in his words. "But why the hell would you do that? - You could have everyone. - Let alone the girls out there ... "

"I don't want to. - I want you, only you and i'd follow you wherever you go, Sam. Give me a chance to make it up to you. We just need to pick up a few things. I know an antidote now, Baby, OK? - And this time it'll work. It's proofed.", Dean swallowed. "Promise."

Sam shook his head. " _No no no_ – just go – leave me alone."

"I told you I won't. I'll stay here until you give me the gun." Dean gave him a short nod and a half meant reassuring smile. "Give me the gun, _Sam_.",, he repeated softly and extended his arm, showing his empty palm. "Give it to me, _Please_." he demanded gently. "I promise it's going to be OK."

Sam tilted his head to the side and watched Dean closely, his eyes glistening with tears.

"C'mon, give it to me." Dean said once more.

Sam looked at the gun in his hands and slowly – so slowly he lessened his grip, as Dean reached for it, untangling it gently from Sams long fingers. "That's good." Dean relaxed slowly as he tugged the weapon between waistband and belt on his back.

The young male got on his knees and threw himself against Dean, who landed on his buttocks with a muffled thump and a surprised grunt. The hunter wrapped his arms around Sam and the young man pressed his body even tighter against him, as Deans grip tightened and he tugged him closer. "IT's OK, Sunshine. - We'll take care of you. We'll make it go away. Me and Bobby."

" _Oh god, oh god._ \- Dean. - I can't. It's killing me.", Sam muttered and squeezed his eyes shut.

"We won't let that happen. - You'll be alright again soon." The older man rubbed gently over his back.

Tears streaming down the younger male's cheeks who curled up in Deans arms into a tight ball, clinging to the his shirt like it was for dear life.

The hunter rocked him gently and buried a hand in Sams hair, guiding his head to his shoulder, while he mumbled senseless stuff in his ear, trying to sooth him, showing him that it'd be good again, that he didn't have to leave this world. - That it was just the _spell_ and nothing else, and that they'd take off from hunting for couple of weeks to get him fully recovered after the spell would be broken.

"I love you, Sammy.", Dean whispered as Sam had calmed down finally and remained shivering in his warm embrace, "I'd be lost without you."

_... to be continued?_

* * *

  
  


** Bad To The Bone ~ Epilogue **

The bright fire of the funeral pyre blazed into the moonless night. The - in sheets wrapped - human figure on the crackling wood was about to become part of the never-ending circle of life, as Bobby Singer and Dean Winchester stared into the flaring flames.

Bobby whipped a tear from his cheek, unseen by the younger man. "He would have deserved better – we should have known ... after all that had happened."

Dean felt a lump in his throat and closed his eyes for a second, swallowing down his grief and burying it deep down in his gut. Then he sucked in a deep breath of the cold midnight air and looked at Bobby. "We gave him the funeral he deserved. He'd be proud."

Bobby nodded and sniffed into a handkerchief. "You should go – I can handle this on my own."

Dean sighed. "Sure?"

The old man gave him a weak smile. "You've done enough, Son. - Go and get some rest. I'll come by when I'm done."

Dean nodded. "Don't forget the whiskey when you do."

* * *

The Impala parked on the roadside about two hundred yards away, somewhere in the darkness of the surrounding woods. The young hunter tilted the collar of his jacket up and digged his hands into the deep pockets. Rubbing with his thumb over the engraved surface of the dogtag he held tight.

As he reached the Impala, Dean walked around to the driver's seat, carrying a tender smile on his lips. As he slid behind the steering wheel he looked to his right, taking in the sleeping figure that rested curled up and sleeping, hunched against the passengers door. The young mans face was completely relaxed and peaceful. One thing, Dean was grateful for.

The hunter laid a hand on the man's upper leg, squeezing it gently and he started to move slightly as he let out a silent groan thru lightly parted lips.

"Dean?", he asked and the exhale of his warm breath morphed into white mist in the cold air.

"Lets head home.", the hunter said softly.

"I'm sorry about Jeremiah.", Sam sniffed and shifted into a sitting position, opening his eyes.

Dean nodded with a sigh, that showed him that nothing was able to make it OK again what the both of them had missed.

"He was dead for weeks, Dean. - We couldn't have stopped it. We didn't even know that it was a trap until ... until four days ago."

The hunter nodded again. "I know ... who would've figured that a demon used him and his nieces as bait for us."

Sam looked back out of the window. "Just ... let's go home."

"How's your forearm?", Dean asked and glanced at the younger male who rubbed over the place of his jacket wich was hiding a bandage.

"Sam looked down at his right arm. "Itchy."

Dean chuckled. "Well then, don't scratch."

"And sore.", Sam added. "You wouldn't have had to cut that deep for a pint of blood."

"And you shouldn't have struggled." Dean countered with a cheeky grin.

This time it was Sams turn to chuckle. "Payback's a bitch.", he said promising and furrowed an eyebrow.

"You want to cut me?", Dean asked grinning.

Sam gave him a promising glance. "Nahhh ... wait and see ... I've some plans for you" he cocked the other eyebrow, his orbs sparkling bright with dark arousal.

"Huuu.", Dean hummed and turned the ignition around. "Guess we've to get home _FAST_."

Sam gave a small lough and laid his hand over Deans, wich was resting on his thigh, throwing a warm look at the older male, as he pulled back onto the street.

* * *

It was a streight thirty minutes drive to Sioux Falls. Though Sam had fallen asleep again short after they had driven off.

Dean was glad to have his Sam back, though he slept a lot. But this time both of them knew that it was OK. Both of them knew it wasn't because of a spell, curse or a black bone. It was just because Sam was recovering. _He was healing._

As they arrived at the salvage, Dean parked in the yard, leaving some place for Bobby and his old Pick Up Truck.

"Rise and shine, Baby.", Dean hummed and brushed gently over Sams cheek.

"I'm not sleepin'.", came a husky voice. "And don't call me Baby. - I'm not a _chick_."

Dean smiled. _Of course not._ "We're home, _Honey_."

Sam opened his eyes and threw him a bitchface before he looked around. "We're home.", he muttered.

They made their way past Bobby's house towards the cabin, where small pieces of blaze gleamed in the fireplace and the warmth had held on, so they wouldn't have to freeze.

Dean threw the keys of the Impala on the small chest beside the entrance. The next second he found himself shoved backwards until his back got pushed against the door and tender lips crushed his. The lack of oxygen made him already dizzy as Sam finally pulled back and ground his hips against the hunters. Feeling _him_.

Dean hummed a low growl and pushed back against Sam.

"When Bobby's gone, I'll teach you a lesson." Sams voice was low and dark as his eyes. "... for calling me _Baby_ \- **AGAIN**."

Dean smiled encouraging. "We'll see about that, Sunshine."

While waiting for Bobby the both of them settled down on the couch. First they **sat** there. Sam curled up into himself and leaning against the older male, nestling his face into the crotch of Deans neck and shoulders, while Dean traced his fingers all over Sams side.

"Damn it.", Dean cursed and slid with his hand into the pocket of his jeans.

"What is it?", Sam asked sleepily and looked up.

"Got something for ya.", he put on a bright smile and held a necklace with a dogtag into the air in front of Sams face.

"That's mine ...", Sams gaze darted between the dogtag and Deans deep green blazing eyes. "Where did you ... - I thought i've lost it ..."

The older man smiled and cocked an eyebrow, not wanting to explain it further and waking bad old memories. "You haven't." Dean tucked the necklace over Sams head, who instantly closed his hand around the pendant. "Thank you.", he muttered and pressed himself tighter against the older mans body.

After a while the both of them _laid_ on the couch. Dean had wrapped his arms protectively around Sam, who had snuggled into Deans chest, rubbing his nose unconsciously against it from time to time.

Another while later they fell asleep like this, still waiting for the old man.

No one of them noticed Bobby entering the cabin. Non of them saw him placing a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen. Not Dean, nor Sam recognized as their friend covered them with a thick and warm blanket. And neither of them realized as he placed a short note on the bottle of whiskey in the kitchen wich said:

_"Was too late. Sleep tight._

_Catch up with ya idjits tomorrow morning 9:30 am - breakfast._

_Bobby"_

** The End **

* * *

  
  



End file.
